Harry No 5 and the Deathly Hallows
by Silverfox1
Summary: After Albus Dumbledore's death Hogwarts Intitute takes an unexpected step to ensure Harry's safety.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry and his friends are supposed to start their seventh year at Hogwarts institute in a few days, but Professor Dumbleore is dead, Professor Burbage has been abducted and what horrors might await the Muggle-born students if Voldemort and the Death Eaters take over? The institute staff decides to take measures to ensure their, and Harry's, safety.

Chapter 1: The Dark Lord Ascending

When Harry arrived in Professor McGonagall's office he found Hermione, Lavender and Dean already there. Each of them was holding one of the strange sea-sacks the younger students had had as well.

"There's no time to argue," the Professor was just telling them. "Just do as I tell you. Ah, Harry, this goes for you as well. Take this bag, go to your dorm and sort your belongings. Everything that is your personal property and either a Muggle item or able to pass for a Muggle item goes in the bag. Everything that is personal property, but magical or likely to seem strange to a Muggle is to go into the box that you will find in the bag. That will ... Actually, Harry, you can owl that box to your father and ask him to keep it for you. That will make things easier. Everything that is institute property, or borrowed from another witch or wizard is to be stacked on your bed. If it isn't institute property make sure that it has a name tag to identify the owner. Do that as quickly as you can and then come down to the small hall where you waited for your sorting when you first arrived at the institute bringing the bag with you. Hurry, there isn't much time!"

"But ..." Harry started, but the Professor shooed him out the door along with the others.

"Whatever is going on?" Dean asked when the door had closed behind them.

"I suppose they are closing the institute," Hermione declared. "And we are to be sent to a Muggle camp for the moment. That's why they want to store our magical possessions somewhere safe."

Return to the Muggle world? Harry had never considered that at all and for a moment he wanted to protest, but then he realised that he had to go somewhere if the institute was no longer there and of course it would be better to be with his friends than to go to a magical unemployment camp all alone.

So he went to his dorm, past the still clueless Neville and started sorting through his belongings.

There was surprisingly little that wasn't enspelled, too old-fashioned not to attract Muggle curiosity or made reference to magic. Even Hogwarts, a History and Harry's chess set would have to be sent to his father.

Or did they? After a moment's hesitation Harry wrote his mother's name on the box instead. Then he sat down and wrote a quick note to explain that he was being hidden in the Muggle world and couldn't take these things with him. Then his eagle feather quill joined the other items in the box.

"Are you still not done?" Dean asked incredulously when Harry returned to his cupboard to put his Muggle study-programs into the sea-sack.

Maybe he'd actually get a chance to use them now.

"Almost," he assured his dorm-mate. "Just the useless stuff at the bottom."

"You have too much stuff," Dean claimed, but he waited until Harry had finished and closed his sack.

Neville was no longer in the common room when they passed through it. Most likely he was on his way to Professor McGonagall's office right now, Harry thought. As they stepped through the portrait hole Harry suddenly realised that he'd probably never see the common room or his dorm again. Wherever the new institute would be would probably look completely different and he might never see it either. He was close to starting his last year of schooling after all.

He stopped to cast a last look back at his home, but Dean grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

"Come on," he reminded Harry. "Professor McGonagall said to hurry."

The waiting room that was easily big enough to hold a whole year of newly arrived students was overcrowded now and Harry was unable to find his friends, but there was a house-elf at the door that was ticking off the names of arriving students on a list and soon announced happily: "That's all of them!"

Then the elf popped out of sight.

Moments later the magically enhanced voice of Professor Vector demanded silence. There was some whispering and shoving, but then the command was obeyed.

"The Death Eaters have abducted Professor Burbage," Professor Vector announced. "And according to our spies they are close to taking over the Ministry. When they do they will also have access to the institute and all its student records. Then you Muggle-borns will probably be arrested and possibly murdered."

"I'm not Muggle-born!" Harry exclaimed angrily. "Both my parents are wizards."

"Well, everybody else here is," Professor Vector snapped. "Don't interrupt. To protect you, we have decided to transfer you to the institutes your Muggle parents originally chose for you and destroy the remaining records. You will explain the change of institutes by your institute having been closed down due to its extremely bad performance. That will also explain your lack of knowledge in your Muggle subjects. Please move on into the changing rooms and exchange your uniforms for transfer clothes, boys on the left, girls on the right. Leave your uniforms in the changing rooms. The house-elves will collect them later. Older students please let the younger ones go first. Once you are changed, please report to Professors Flittwick and Sprout for a safety check of your luggage."

Harry squeezed tightly against the wall as the mass of students streamed past pushing and shoving towards the door. People bumped against him and stepped on his toes. Someone's sea-sack slapped him in the face, but then the crowd began to thin out and a moment later there was room enough to get through to Professor Vector.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry gets an explanation, realises something and loses something.

Chapter 2: In Memoriam

Harry hardly knew Professor Vector. Of course he had seen him around the institute, usually at the head table during meals, and knew that he taught Arithmancy, but since Harry had never taken the subject, there had never been any interactions between them.

Hermione did have Arithmancy as one of her NEWT subjects. She'd even called it her favourite subject a few times and Harry thought that that probably meant that Professor Vector liked her as well, but Hermione was nowhere to be seen right now. Most likely she'd left along with most of the other students.

"Professor?" he asked more timidly than he usually spoke with his own teachers.

"Ah yes, Harry Potter, isn't it?" the Professor asked digging through his pockets for something.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "I'm not Muggle born. I shouldn't be here."

"Oh, but of course you must be aware that despite your wizarding blood you are in even bigger danger than the Muggle born students. Of course it is entirely possible that You-Know-Who will decide to kill them, but in the long run that would drastically reduce the wizarding population which cannot be in his interest. Therefore I am more inclined to expect that he will subject them to all sorts of reprisals, but leave them alive. In your case however, we know for sure that he intends murder. You must be hidden at all costs. Luckily you were already raised in a Muggle primary institute so you are as able to pretend to be a Muggle as the Muggle borns."

Harry nodded. It shouldn't be hard for him to pretend to be a Muggle. He just didn't want to leave the institute without his NEWTs.

"The one problem that we do have is that You-Know-Who will make a much more thorough search for Harry Potter than for any one missing Muggle born child. We will try to make him believe that you have been smuggled out of the country to continue your magical education at a foreign institute, but he might still check Muggle files. It isn't very difficult to put some poor unsuspecting Muggle under imperius and order them to search for Muggle files on a student called Harry Potter. Therefore," He had finally found what he'd been looking for and pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket triumphantly. "The headmistress has decided that you are to be sent to the Muggle institute under the name of your mother's Muggle husband. P..." He blinked at the parchment trying to make out the apparently badly scrawled name.

"Prewett," Harry supplied. "But he's a squib, not a Muggle."

"Ah excellent, you already know your new name. Now please remember not to tell any of the other Professors, especially not Professor Snape. He ... is likely to be questioned by You-Know-Who, you see, and you know what an excellent Legilimens he is. The only ones that need to know of your name change are the Muggle borns that will go to the same institute as you ... though I don't think the Muggles will be surprised if they get your last name wrong. You have always been Harry number five to them after all and why should they have paid any particular attention to your last name. They are likely to be more surprised to find that you have told it to younger students at all."

Harry nodded. He'd have to warn Hermione, Ron, Draco, Vincent and Gregory, of course. And Neville, Dean and Seamus. People would get suspicious if his best friends and dorm-mates all insisted that his name was Potter and not Prewett.

He'd already reached the changing room and started to take off his robes when he remembered that Ron was a pureblood. There was no reason to hide him from You-Know-Who and he wouldn't know how to pretend to be a Muggle. He'd never been to a Muggle institute, nor had he taken Muggle Studies.

The same was true for his Slytherin friends and Seamus, though Neville at least had been brought up in a Muggle institute as well.

What would happen to their wizard born fellow students? Would they even see them again? He almost turned around and rushed back to the common room to say good bye before he remembered that the others would all be in class or the library right now. He'd have to wait until lunchtime when they'd be sure to be in the great hall.

So he finished undressing and then stood and fumbled with the white Muggle transfer clothes he had been given to change into before he remembered which way around they went. It had been so very long since he had worn trousers or a shirt and there was no wand pocket in these clothes. Where was he supposed to put his wand?

In the end he kept it in his hand, slung his sea-sack over his shoulder and marched out to let Professor Flittwick inspect him. To his surprise the students in the corridor looked very pale and some, especially among the younger ones, were even crying.

Harry glanced at them wondering whether he should stop to console them, but then Professor Flittwick had just finished checking another student's sea-sack and when he looked up his eyes fell on Harry.

"Ah Harry, over here! Professor Vector explained your ... special circumstances?"

"Yes Sir," Harry confirmed. "I'm going to be ca... going with the Muggle borns since I grew up in a Muggle institute like them." He remembered only just in time that he wasn't supposed to tell the other Professors that he was going under another name.

Luckily Professor Flittwick hadn't been paying attention to the slip-up as he'd caught sight of what Harry was holding in his hand.

"What's that? A wand? Hand it over! Is it your's?"

"Why yes, Sir," Harry said a little confusedly.

"Foolish boy! You can't take a wand to the Muggle institute!"

"But Sir!" Harry exclaimed. "It's my wand! You can't just!"

But Professor Flittwick had already twisted it out of Harryâ€™s hand with surprising dexterity.

"No wands in the Muggle world," he declared. "It must remain here. Now let's see your luggage."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Petunia gets some news.

Chapter 3: The Dursleys Departing

For a moment Petunia Evans Dursley was surprised when her private phone rang in the middle of the workday, but when she saw who the caller was her face lit up and she accepted the call despite the inopportune hour.

"Lily!"

At first Petunia had been very angry when she had learned that she had been abandoned and lied to for fifteen years, but it had been such a delight to have her sister back and as it had turned out the whole thing had been Lily's ex-husband's fault. Petunia always had thought that James was no good. So very harsh and inconsiderate! And the horrid pranks Lily had told her he delighted in!

The new husband, Claudius, had made a much better impression from the start and he also was a normal person just like her. Of course Lily had this magic, so perhaps in her eyes it was a downside, but Petunia felt that she was able to connect with Claudius much better and Lily said she was happy with him and that a lot of witches and wizards married normal people, so surely there was nothing wrong with Petunia being happy with the change.

"Oh Petunia! I'm so glad I reached you! There's something really strange going on at Hogwarts institute! I just got a package of all sorts of magical items with a letter from Harry saying that they are being evacuated and asking me to keep them for him."

"Evacuated?" Petunia gasped. "But why and where to?"

"Well, they are probably fearing an attack on the institute by You-Know-Who. That's that evil wizard that tried to murder Harry in the nursery institute. I don't mind that part at all. It's probably a very wise precaution. I have no idea where to, though. And what's even worse is that I haven't received any such package for Mafalda and neither has Claudius. Oh Petunia, why would they evacuate the older students before the first years?"

That did seem very strange.

"Email the institute," she said. "There'll be some explanation other than that. Maybe ... the package got lost in the mail or ... or ... or ... Maybe only Harry decided not to take everything with him. Mafalda is younger. She probably doesn't own as much stuff. Or ... Why Lily, how could Mafalda mail you anything at all? She doesn't know your name! It will probably have to go through the institute while Harry was able to mail his package himself. That's why he was faster."

"I've already tried to floo the headmistress, but she wasn't there," Lily said. "So I owled her instead, but the owl returned without a reply!"

"Owl?" Petunia asked momentarily baffled before she remembered the way Harry's birthday letters had been delivered. "Ah yes, of course. That's your company mailing software, I remember now," she added for the benefit of any coworkers listening in. "Now Lily, don't panic. Of course, if the headmistress isn't in her office she can't reply to her mail either. Just take a few deep breaths and make yourself a nice cup of tea, enjoy it and then check your mail again."

"One doesn't check mailboxes for owls, Petunia. They come in through the window."

"Mrs Dursley!" her boss' angry voice rang out.

"Just a moment, Sir!" Petunia called out to him. "My sister is having an emotional crisis!"

"Not on my working time!"

"I can't just switch off on her in this state. I'll make up for it by extra o... work in my lunch break," Petunia promised remembering just in time that extra overtime would prevent her seeing Lily tonight and that might be very necessary if Lily didn't hear back from the institute before then. "Look Lily, I can't talk now. I have to work, but I'm sure Mafalda is fine and things are just so busy at the institute that they aren't keeping up with their mail. Most likely the children's packages going out are taking priority over parents' inquiries. I'll call you as soon as I get off work tonight and if you haven't heard back from them by then we'll tell Vernon. Vernon always knows just what to do."

She switched off her phone and hastily returned to her work only daring to look up from it again after the others had left for lunch. Her stomach growled, but she decided that Lily was worth it. She'd treat herself to some nice sweet bakery on the way to Lily.

Only then did she remember that Vernon had failed her once before where that horrible institute had been concerned.

Of course they had had no idea that Lily and James were still alive and the real guardians of their son, but still they had set out to get Harry back into a proper institute and despite all Vernon's contacts and efforts they had failed.

By the time she finally finished her regular overtime she was so famished that she went straight to the bakery and wolfed down two muffins in the hover-taxi before she actually called her sister again.

"Lily? This is Petunia. I just got off work and am on my way to you."

"Oh Petunia!" the answer came breathlessly, but not quite as distressed as it had been in the morning. "I didn't dare call you again after your boss got so angry! I finally got a reply owl from the institute an hour ago and they really aren't evacuating Mafalda at all! They say that as a half-blood she is in no danger from You-Know-Who and only the Muggle-borns are being evacuated! Can you believe it?"

"Only the ... what are Mubbleborns?"

"Muggle-borns," Lily repeated very clearly. "That's wizards and witches whose parents have no magic - neither parent."

"But both you and your ex have it. Harry isn't a Mubble-born."

"No, but You-Know-Who's still after him because of a prophecy. But never mind Harry. He's fine ... I am getting custody of him and he's going to the institute you chose for him. It's Mafalda that I'm worried about!"

Despite Lily's worry for her little daughter Petunia couldn't help a satisfied smile passing over her face at the realisation that Harry would be reunited with Dudley. She'd have to make sure her darling boy knew about the relationship and that he should help his cousin adapt.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry's brain never quite catches up with events in this chapter.

Chapter 4: The Seven Potters

"Alright," Professor Flittwick demanded. "All done, Pomona?"

"All done," Professor Sprout agreed. "Now for the hard part."

"You-Know-Who has no reason to watch the institute that closely when he believes he already has a spy here," Professor Flittwick assured her, but then he cast a disillusionment charm on every child that passed him as they filed out behind Professor Sprout.

To Harry's surprise the Herbology professor led them right out the side door that led to the herb gardens, through the gardens and over to the lake where the Hogwarts hover-bus was parked.

"What?" he asked Hermione. "Are we leaving right away? But we haven't said good-bye to our year-mates."

"I suppose it is safer if they don't know where we've gone," was all Hermione said.

But what of Ron? What of Draco, Gregory, Vincent and even Neville? What would they think of Harry if he simply disappeared without a word? Harry looked around desperately for anyone that he could ask to take a message to his friends, but there was no sign of anyone but them outside or even at one of the windows. Apparently there was no Herbology or Care for Magical Creatures lesson right now and everybody was inside.

The bus' door opened right away when they reached it, Professor Grubbly-Plank got out and stepped aside with Professor Sprout while the row of white-clothed children climbed in in the same order they had left the castle in: The first years first and sixth years last.

Apparently no seventh years were being transferred, but then the school year was practically over and it would have been their last.

The upper floor filled up quickly and so Harry and Hermione took downstairs beds close to the driver's seat.

Harry couldn't really enjoy the ride. He kept thinking about Ron and that he hadn't said good bye to his friends. What would Ron think when Harry and Hermione didn't appear in the Great Hall at lunch? How could Harry make up for that in his owl?

He barely noticed when they stopped at 'North-Scotland-Secondary Institute' and two of the younger students got off the bus.

A slightly larger group including some vaguely familiar faces left at 'The Scottish Secondary Institute', but before Harry had time to ask what was going on they were off again.

This time the bus made a large jump and soon they stopped outside a large grey building surrounded by high walls topped with barbed wire.

"Harry Prewett," the Professor called. "Terry Boot, Matthew number three!"

Harry remembered just in time that he was Harry Prewett and jumped up to join Terry and a tiny second or third year boy on their way up to the driver.

The Professor handed each of them a folder and shoved them to the door.

"Your A-level subjects are Chemistry, Biology, Physics and Mathematics, Harry," she whispered. "And your new name is Prewett. Don't forget that."

"Wait!" Harry heard Hermione's voice behind him. "Harry!"

He turned around but the Professor grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him outside. "Get going!"

"Harry! What institute is this?"

Only then, already standing outside on the concrete did Harry realise that Hermione, Dean and Lavender were about to be taken to a different institute and he'd be left alone here.

"Hermione!" he shouted, but the door was already closing and he could only hope that she would owl him her new address. "Hermione," he whispered one more time as he watched the bus disappear through the gate.

"Come on, slacker! Through here," ha harsh voice ordered.

"Come on, get going," another man said shoving Harry towards the first voice. "That's what you get with those coeducational institutes. Imaginary lovers."

"Hermione isn't my girlfriend," Harry protested. "We're just friends. We've been classmates since the primary institute."

Only later did he remember that that wasn't actually true. They'd been in the same institute, but different classes back then.

"I didn't ask you!" the strange Professor barked at him.

"But ..."

Slap!

"Good Lord, what a forward bunch! Didn't they teach them any manners at all?"

Little Matthew burst into tears and even Terry looked almost frightened. Harry wondered what he was thinking, but he knew him little better than he did Matthew.

Sure Terry was in his year, but he was a Ravenclaw and had different NEWT subjects. But they had A-level subjects instead now so maybe they would be in the same classes?

Harry fervently hoped so. He didn't even know what Chemistry, Biology and Physics were and hadn't had any Mathematics since the primary institute. It would be comforting to have at least one companion that was just as confused as he was and knew where he really belonged and what he was, even if it wasn't actually a friend. Right now Terry was the person he knew best in this institute, the only person he knew at all.

"Terry?" he asked. "Hey Terry!"

"Less talking, more walking!" the man who had slapped Harry ordered and Terry obediently turned away from Harry and said nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry meets his new headmaster.

Chapter 5: Fallen Warrior

Harry and the other two boys were led into a small office where a to Harry's surprise male secretary took their folders and then ordered them to wait and disappeared through another door. The two men who had led them here remained standing by the door.

"Terry?" Harry tried to get his companion's attention once again.

Terry's eyes flashed to the two men nervously. They didn't react, but Terry whispered "Later." anyway.

So Harry stood there in silence and waited. And waited and ... Eventually little Matthew took a few steps closer to the desk and when their guards didn't react in any way sat in one of the chairs.

Harry considered sitting down as well, but then he had a better idea. As if he were bored he started walking around the room, slowly drawing closer to the door the secretary had disappeared through as he looked at the furniture and grey walls.

It was unfortunate that there were no pictures here that he could have pretended an interest in. On the other hand the lack of anything else to look at probably made it less strange that Harry stopped in front of the door and pretended to be interested in the lines in the wood.

It had to be a rather thin door as Harry could indeed hear what was being said on the other side.

"... probably put them all in remedial classes, but we need to keep them separate or they'll cling to each other," one voice said.

"That won't be a problem. They are obviously of different ages," replied an even clearer voice.

"By their files the older two are both entering seventh year," the first voice objected. "But they share only one subject. Bring me Boot first. He seems to have done pretty well at that other institute. Maybe he'll be able to keep up with a weak normal Mathematics class. Terry Boot."

Harry had to jump back very quickly when the door opened and the secretary came back out.

"Which one of you is Terry Boot?" the secretary demanded.

"Me," Terry replied nervously.

"The headmaster wants to see you," the secretary declared, grabbed Terry's upper arm and pulled him through the door.

So that had to be the headmaster's office. Harry considered returning to his listening post, but decided that it would be too obvious. Thus he went to the desk instead and sat down beside Matthew.

The little boy looked at him miserably. His eyes were still red from crying. Harry gave him an encouraging smile, but he didn't react and neither of them spoke.

At least the wait was shorter this time and when the secretary returned with Terry he merely said "Harry Prewett" and held the door open for Harry to pass.

Harry had been expecting this and reacted to his new name immediately this time.

To his surprise the secretary closed the door behind him without following him inside. Why was he leaving him to talk with the headmaster alone when he had stayed to watch Terry?

"So," said the headmaster sternly. "You are Harry Prewett."

Harry nodded though it didn't really sound like a question.

"We are going to list you as Harry number nineteen," the headmaster continued. "It will be a good idea to remember the number as a few of our teachers do continue to use the number even after a student's sixteenth birthday. Most of us will of course address you as Prewett, though."

Harry stared at him in confusion. Was it customary to address children by adult names in this institute? It seemed so very improper.

"I see from your papers that you are distantly related to another one of our students in your own year, one Dudley Dursley," the headmaster went on. "Do you know Dursley?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry said. "That is no, Sir. That is ..."

"Which one now?" the headmaster demanded sharply. "Do make up your mind and give a clear answer!"

"I meant that I know that I am related to a boy called Dudley Dursley, Sir," Harry replied trying hard to do as he had been ordered. "It said so in my birthday letter. I also had a classmate called Dudley in the primary institute, but I do not know whether they are the same. There must be many Dudleys that are my age."

"Very true," the headmaster agreed. "We usually separate boys that are related or already know each other, but since you are entering an already established year group there is a limited number of dorms with unclaimed beds and your classmates are already familiar with the rules and layout of the institute, so there will be no introduction lessons or guides to explain these things. Moreover you are at a level where each boy has an individual schedule, so you will not be able to follow just any fellow around until you get your bearings. Therefore it seems best to choose the dorm with a free bed that offers a dorm-mate with the most possible shared classes with you and Dursley happens to share both your Mathematics and your Biology class."

Harry started when he heard the door behind him open suddenly, but it was only the secretary returning. So he was going to watch after all. The headmaster ignored his arrival.

"Now I know that it is not your fault that your teachers have been negligent in your education so far, but you must understand that it would reflect very badly on our institute to grant A-levels to students of inferior knowledge. Therefore we expect you to work hard to catch up if you want to be allowed to take the exams at the end of your seventh year. I have to warn you that one year is very little time to catch up in so be aware that even if you do your very best it is very likely that you will have to repeat seventh year to get your A-levels. Or you might want to consider being content with the O-levels you already have. There are a lot of big and successful companies that offer very productive work in their factories that doesn't require A-levels. Smith! Take the boy to dorm 178 and tell Dursley to show him around a little. They'll share classes. That should be sufficient incentive to help him out."

Harry could only hope that it would be.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Obviously no ghoul here, but we get to see what became of Dudley in this universe.

Chapter 6: The Ghoul in Pyjamas

The secretary led Harry through more grey corridors - Or were they the same ones? They all looked alike, lacking distinguishing portraits and suits of armour. - up some stairs, down another corridor and finally stopped in front of a door with the number 178 on it. He knocked once and then entered.

This room finally had some decorations on the walls, a framed photograph above each bed except for the one right next to the door. That had to be the free one that was intended for him, Harry realised.

There were six beds in total and they looked more like the ones in the hospital wing at Hogwarts institute than the comfortable curtained ones in the dorms. Three desks with two computer terminals each also confirmed that the room was intended for six boys, but only three were present all looking at Harry and the secretary as if they'd interrupted them in some secret conversation.

"Which one of you is Dursley?" The secretary demanded rather harshly. "Well!"

"None, Sir," one of the boys replied after a moment of silence. "I think he's down in the gym."

The secretary snorted, then pointed at the unoccupied bed. "Oh well, here's your bed then, Prewett. And you boys tell Dursley he's to show him around."

"Yes, Sir! Sure thing," the three boys chorused and the secretary left.

Harry put his sea-sack on the bed and looked around.

"So, where do I put my things?" he asked the boys. "And where do I get my new uniform?"

"Better wait till Taylor comes back," one of the boys offered after another moment of silence. "You're going to have to share his cupboard and he doesn't like it when we touch his stuff."

"What did you do?" the one that hadn't spoken at all yet asked.

"Do?" Harry returned puzzled.

"Well, to get yourself transferred," the boy demanded. "And this close to the exams, too."

"Nothing," Harry replied glad to already have been given an answer to that. "Our institute got closed due to bad results. They had to send me somewhere and my parents chose this place."

"It's laundry day today," the first boy said. "I suppose that's why they didn't give you a uniform yet."

"Laundry day?" Harry asked confused.

"Of course. Didn't they do laundry at your old institute?"

"Er ... sure they did, but what does that have to do with getting a uniform?" Harry asked hastily.

"Well, they are going to hand us all fresh uniforms to change into tonight anyway, so I expect you're supposed to hand in your transfer clothes instead of a dirty uniform. No need to wash clothes you only just got a few hours ago."

"Oh," Harry said.

At Hogwarts institute they had each had two sets of robes which had been taken to be washed by the house elves during the night and returned the same way. Of course the Muggles didn't have house elves, though. Harry tried to remember what laundry days had been like at the primary institute. It had been so long ago and his memories of the place were getting quite fuzzy.

"What's your name then?" the second boy asked.

"Harry," Harry said. "Harry Prewett."

"I'm Napier," the third boy interjected. "That's O'Riley and Harper. And Taylor and Dursley are out."

"In the gym," Harry remembered. "I heard."

"Dursley probably is in the gym," Napier corrected. "He likes sports. Taylor ... probably the library. You'll never see him in the gym unless someone drags him there by force."

"Oh," Harry said once again.

Did these students always go about all alone? Was it considered wrong to want the company of a friend? If so Harry was in trouble. ... Or was he? Ron, Hermione and Draco weren't here after all. He didn't have a friend to accompany him anywhere.

Dursley arrived about half an hour later. He was a tall very muscular boy who was smiling happily and smelling of soap - he must have already taken a shower after his workout.

"Hey Dursley," Napier said when he caught sight of his dorm-mate "That's Prewett. Smitie said you're to show him around."

"Eh?" said Dursley looking quite confused. "Why?"

"Cause he's just been transferred from another institute and doesn't know what's where, Stupid," Harper said.

"Leave Dursley alone, Harper," Napier threw in rather casually.

"But why me?" Dursley specified.

"Because we're cousins," Harry offered, though he knew it wasn't actually the truth. "Or well, I think it might also be because we're going to have two classes together."

"Cousins?" O'Riley asked sounding quite excited.

"Cousins?" Dursley repeated.

"Yes, my mother is Lily Evans Prewett, yours is Petunia Evans Dursley, right? They are sisters."

Dursley nodded. "Yes!" he said looking quite impressed and then after thinking it over for about a minute he added: "You're Harry. You're at a bad institute. Mum and Dad wanted to make them send you here instead, but they wouldn't. It makes Dad very angry. ... Except I thought your name was Potter not Prewett?"

"My mother remarried," Harry said quickly. "Her first husband was James Potter, but he's an evil bastard, so now she's married to Claudius Prewett."

"But I thought you were Potter, too," Dursley insisted.

"I'm not," Harry assured him. "I'm Harry Prewett. I know my own name better than you, trust me."

Dursley, Harry soon realised, was nice, but very slow which seemed to annoy Tyler a little and caused Harper to despise and insult him for no good reason. Napier was the peacemaker and unofficial leader of the group even though he tended to leave it to O'Riley to speak for them when they had to deal with adults.

Either of the last two would probably have made a better guide for Harry than Dursley, but then they had no classes in common with him and Harry was glad to have a chance to get to know his Muggle cousin.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry's new dorm-mates discover that Harry's old institute was really weird.

Chapter 7: The Will of Albus Dumbledore

Harry's new dorm-mates had some very strange habits, the most conspicuous of which was calling each other by their last names. At first Harry simply accepted it thinking that it would probably help him get used to his new name quickly and if any wizards showed up asking for someone called Harry most of those who weren't in his dorm wouldn't even know that it was his name.

It was a very strange habit, though and when they went down to dinner and had to line up with food trays in their hands, yet another thing Harry had vague memories of doing at the primary institute, but that came as a surprise nevertheless, he decided to inquire into the matter after all.

"Say Dursley," he asked instead of replying to Harper's question why he was looking so confused. "Why do you call each other by your last names?"

"Why, because that is what one does," Dursley replied after pondering the question as usual. "Didn't you do that at that bad institute?"

"No," Harry said. "How could we? We didn't even know them when we first met."

"It's a matter of status," Napier explained seeing that Dudley was merely looking confused and was not likely to be able to come up with an answer. "Once you know your last name you get called by it to demonstrate your seniority over those who don't know yet."

"Oh," Harry said and felt glad that they hadn't had that custom at Hogwarts institute. It would have been horrible to be the last to change his name. "I guess we just saw when our classmates got their birthday letters and that was good enough for us."

"But what of the boys in other classes?" Harper asked.

Boys in other classes? Until last year there hadn't been anyone in his year that he didn't have some class or another with. And of course those in other years would know whether Harry was older or younger than them. Or did they know what year he was in other than not their own? He shrugged.

"I guess they didn't really care."

"So what were you so surprised at?" Harper asked again.

"The food line," Harry admitted.

"Oh come on, you're not going to try to make us believe that you've never seen a food line before!" O'Riley scoffed.

"Oh no," Harry declared hastily. "It's just ..." He glanced up and down the line of students of all sizes again and luckily did hit on something strange about it. "Where are the girls?"

"Girls?" The other boys all stared at him, even including some strangers that had been standing close enough to overhear their conversation. "There were girls at your institute?"

"Why of course," Harry said. Was that unusual? "There were girls at every institute I've ever been, starting with the nursery institute."

"Why yes, nursery institutes and primary institutes," O'Riley said. "Mine had them, too, but never secondary institutes."

"Actually," Tyler said. "I've read that most institutes have a boys' house and a girls' house. It's just that this is the only secondary institute we've ever been to. I didn't think they'd let them eat together, though. Children might fall in love."

"So what?" Harry asked.

"Why we are too young for that of course," Harper declared. "It'd be terrible if we were to get married too soon."

"We were not allowed to get married while we were still at the institute, of course," Harry explained. "But there was nothing wrong with having a girlfriend."

"You can get divorced," Napier pointed out. "And marry somebody else. That's no problem."

People were staring at Harry, but of course he was still wearing the white transfer clothes instead of the proper uniform and that had to make him stick out. This institute was much bigger than his old one and Terry and Matthew were nowhere in sight. Surely they were somewhere in the mass of people, though?

The food was strangely dry and had next to no taste at all and Harry thought longingly of the feasts at Hogwarts even though of course this wasn't actually a transfer day. He did his best not to show that he disliked the meal since the other boys weren't complaining either and to smile and say something polite to every curious boy that his dorm-mates introduced him to.

"That's Prewett," Dursley explained once again. "His institute has been closed because it was bad."

"Now?" the latest stranger said screwing his face up into an exaggerated grimace of incredulity. "The week before exams week? He'll fail everything!"

"It's not that important in sixth year," Napier pointed out.

"It'll only put you in remedial classes in everything," the stranger said. "I'm Polkiss, by the way. Dursley and I have been best friends since our primary institute."

"I had a friend like that," Harry remembered overcome by a wave of sadness "Her name was Hermione."

"There were girls at your institute?" Polkiss asked wide-eyed and Harry had to repeat Tyler's explanation.

"Why aren't you in the same dorm if you are best friends, though?" Harry asked.

"Why because we were best friends at the primary institute," Polkiss explained as if it were obvious. "Didn't they put you and Hermione in separate dorms so you'd make new friends?"

"No," Harry told him. "They put us in separate dorms because she's a girl. Boys and girls had separate dorms, of course. We were house-mates and classmates, though."

"I wish they'd let us be classmates, too," Dursley sighed.

After dinner he asked O'Riley to take good care of Prewett and disappeared into the first bathroom they passed on the way back to the dorm.

"Is he feeling unwell?" Harry asked a little confused. "Should we take him to the hospital wing? You do have a hospital wing, right?"

"He's fine, Stupid," Harper said. "He's just gone to phone his parents."

"Phone?" Harry echoed trying to remember what that word meant.

"Weren't you allowed phones at your old institute?" O'Riley asked and Harry shook his head.

It was a device then, right? One that let you communicate with people?

"Then how did you communicate with your parents?" Taylor asked.

"Why we wrote them o..." Harry remembered just in time not to say owls. "Or we met them in the village."

"But that's so slow!" Taylor exclaimed and all of a sudden Harry felt even lonelier than before. He hastily reminded himself that Hedwig would be here soon. Then he'd be able to owl Ron, Draco and his mother at least. Hermione would have to contact him first since he had no idea what part of the country she'd been taken to.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry is not Dursley.

Chapter 8: The Wedding

Dursley hadn't reappeared yet when Napier decided that they'd better go and get their fresh uniforms. Since he was happy enough to take Harry along, Harry decided not to worry about Dursley who would surely be able to find his way on his own. After all it wasn't difficult to go where everybody else was going, get in line where everybody else was lining up and wait to see what would happen.

"178, Sir!" O'Riley reported to the white-coated man they found in the room at the end of the cue.

The man turned to the rows of shelves behind him, found their dorm number, pulled out the stack of clothing he found there and slammed it onto the counter. Then he took off the top box and read out the tag on it. "Harper!"

Harper held out his arms and received his uniform.

"Taylor," the man continued. "Napier, O'Riley, Dursley ..."

The man looked at Harry then the uniform in his box.

"You're not Dursley, are you?" he demanded. "You're much too skinny for this."

"No, Sir," Harry said. "I'm Harry number f... I mean Prewett. I'm Harry Prewett and number nineteen I was number five at my old institute."

"Why aren't you in uniform?" the man demanded rather harshly.

"You haven't given me one yet," Harry tried to explain, but the man reacted by looking even more angry and Harry took a frightened step backwards.

"He's just been transferred today," O'Riley explained hastily. "His institute's been closed."

"Prewett, Herkins?" The man called to a second man who was sitting in a corner ticking off names on a list. "Do we have a Prewett? First name Harry or Henry?"

It appeared that Harry wasn't on their list, which meant that they didn't have any clothes prepared for him, nor did they know his size and Harry didn't know either.

Luckily Herkins knew how to help himself. He got up, grabbed Harry by the collar from behind, twisted it so roughly that for a moment Harry thought he'd strangle him and then announced his clothes size.

"Now take off a shoe," he demanded and Harry obeyed hastily before the man could pull his leg out under him.

Hawkins accepted the shoe, turned it over and read out Harry's shoe size and then the other man disappeared among the stacks to find clothes for Harry.

"There," he announced when he returned and shoved the box into Harry's arms. "Now where is Dursley?"

"He said he was going to the bathroom," Harry replied since he felt addressed.

"And just how long does that take him?" the man demanded. "Haven't we lost enough time equipping you?"

"How should we know?" O'Riley returned with a shrug. "Maybe he didn't want to jump the cue looking for us. He's old enough not to get lost in the institute. He's not new like Prewett."

"Well, get going then. You've been holding up the line long enough."

They did so, returning to their dorm to sort out their new clothes and put them away. To Harry's relief the box turned out to include socks, underwear and pyjamas as well as trousers, jumper, shirt and tie. There weren't actually any shoes, but he supposed shoe size also determined sock size.

He changed and was just about to ask where he was to put the transfer clothes when the door flew open and Dursley arrived still without a stack of clothes.

"My Mum says you are really my cousin!" he exclaimed. "My aunt told her you were coming."

"Yes, the headmaster said so, too," Harry pointed out.

"But she said your name was Potter!"

"No, it's Prewett," Harry assured him. "Only my mother married James Potter first. He is really nasty, though, so she divorced him and married Claudius Prewett. So your mother remembers that Mum married a Potter and thought that I must be called Potter, too. But we are really all Prewetts."

Dursley looked quite confused, shook his head and apparently decided that he didn't need to know how the mistake had occurred.

"You'd better go get your clothes now," Harry told him. "The professor that's handing them out seemed quite angry that you weren't with us."

"Nurse," Napier corrected. "That was no professor."

They still had nurses here? How strange!

As it turned out they were to take their laundry to the showers with them and throw it into laundry baskets there.

The showers were next to the stairs serving all the dorms on two corridors and the basket was a huge metal cage next to the shower doors.

Harry felt a little more comfortable once he had showered and thrown the conspicuous transfer clothes into the basket. In his uniform pyjamas he finally looked like he belonged here.

It was still a strange and confusingly large place, though and Harry longed for the company of his friends. He had to owl them first thing in the morning, but Hedwig hadn't arrived yet and he didn't know where to get another owl here. Muggles didn't use owls after all.

He tried to remember how long it usually took his owl to return after taking a letter to his mother, but then he remembered that he didn't know what part of the country he was in. He might be closer to his mother's home than Hogwarts or further away.

What if Hedwig didn't know where he was either? What would happen if she couldn't find him and returned to Hogwarts instead?


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry's first day of classes doesn't go so well, but at least he has something to look forward to.

Chapter 9: A Place to Hide

"If I let you talk to Mum when I phone her," Dursley said quite unexpectedly at breakfast. "Will you let me talk to Aunt Lily when you phone her?"

"I can't," Harry admitted a little shamefacedly. "I'd love to know Aunt Petunia. I've always wanted to meet her someday, but ... well, you see, we weren't allowed to phone people at my old institute." He'd already said that yesterday and they hadn't been too incredulous after all.

"Oh, but you won't need a phone," Dursley offered happily. "We can use mine and your Dad can get you your own for your birthday or Christmas."

"Er ..." Could he just explain that he had no idea how to use a phone?

"Dursley, if Prewett wasn't allowed to phone his parents, he probably doesn't know their number. He'll have to write them to ask for it first," Taylor explained rolling his eyes.

"Not necessarily," Napier said suddenly. "Dursley, if your Mum said that Prewett's Mum told her Prewett was coming here, doesn't that mean that she must have phoned her? Then your Mum must have the number and all you have to do is ask her."

"Then I could really talk with my mother tonight?"

The thought was such a relief! Suddenly Harry no longer felt lost and alone. Surely his Mother would know how to get Hedwig to Smeltings institute and then he'd be able to owl his friends and apologise for disappearing.

Harry soon found that he needed the promise of that phone-call to sustain him. Classes at Smeltings institute were a disaster for him that day. He had no idea what his new professors were talking about most of the time. In fact, at times he wondered whether he'd actually understand them better, if they were talking in Dutch.

At least he was lucky to start the day with Biology as that professor seemed to be particularly kind and told his classmates not to laugh at him when Harry stuttered something about mandrake-synthesis in answer to a question he didn't even comprehend.

"I'm sure you too would be nervous if you'd suddenly been transplanted into a completely different institute with a completely different professor talking about a completely different topic and knew you had to take exams in two weeks. What Mr. Prewett was thinking of is of course photosynthesis. Though why his professor saw fit to use mandrakes of all things to explain it is beyond me, I fear."

"We had some," Harry explained hastily. "In greenhouse two. We planted them ourselves in second year."

"But what do blood groups have to do with photosynthesis?" a tall boy in the front row asked.

"Nothing at all, I fear, Prewett," the professor admitted. "It is haemoglobin that has a similar structure to chlorophyll which is required for photosynthesis. But since you are volunteering, Mr. Peters, perhaps you can tell us the correct answer?"

Harry sat down relieved to have been let off the hook and desperately worried about his exams. He didn't know a thing about either photosynthesis or blood groups and just what were haemoglobin and chlorophyll?

Mathematics and Chemistry were even worse since the professors berated and ridiculed him for his answers or lack thereof.

At least the Biology professor had made up an excuse for him and Harry kept telling everybody that he was just nervous and getting things mixed up when they asked him why he was giving such weird answers.

"I'll never pass the exams here," he admitted to Dursley and Polkiss at lunch. "I have no idea of the things your professors are talking about. It's like they are teaching completely different subjects." Which was exactly what they were doing of course.

"I admit Math didn't exactly seem to be going well for you," Polkiss who wasn't in any of Harry's other classes said. "But it can't be as bad as that. They are the same subjects and they must teach the same things, maybe just a little differently and in a different order."

"Or maybe," Harry said suddenly remembering his other excuse. "That is why they closed my institute. They just weren't teaching what they ought to have. They did say it was because of its bad results."

That did shut Polkiss up for a moment, but when Dursley reached for his pudding he brightened again.

"You've got to remember that it doesn't really matter if you fail this year's exams, though," he said. "The worst they can do to you is put you in remedial classes next year and if it is really that bad those are probably just what you need to help you catch up. It's the A-level exams that you've got to pass and you have a whole year to prepare for those."

A year wasn't all that much when you had all the content of seven years to catch up on in four subjects, Harry thought, but for the moment he consoled himself with the promised phone call. He'd also have to remember to ask his mother for a phone of his own for his birthday.

Said birthday, too, was only a little over two weeks away and once he had a phone maybe he could get his relatives to send him more study-programs and to help him catch up in his classes.

He started working on his oldest Math study program during his study period ... or well, he did once he had figured out how to start it. The computers here seemed to be a little more complicated than those at the primary institute had been.

Or could it be that Harry had simply forgotten how to use them?


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry gets to talk to Petunia and his mother.

Chapter 10: Kreacher's Tale

Despite a sudden attack of headache that reminded Harry uncomfortably of his fifth year at Hogwarts Institute it was wonderful to talk to his Aunt Petunia for the very first time. So wonderful that he didn't even mind being squeezed into a too narrow toilet cubicle with the broad-shouldered Dursley.

Aunt Petunia was delighted to talk to him too!

"Oh Harry!" she kept saying. "Harry, we'd hoped to get you out of that school for so long! But they wouldn't listen to us. Oh Harry, I'm so very happy!"

"I've wanted to meet you for very long as well, Aunt Petunia," Harry told her. "I'm sorry I chose an institute you didn't like. The headmaster said it was where my parents had gone, though. And that they were dead and ... I wanted to do what they'd wanted me to."

"Shameless manipulation of a poor little child," Aunt Petunia declared. "You shouldn't have been given the choice at all. You were much too young to understand what you were doing."

"Is Uncle Vernon with you?" Harry asked a little while later. "I'd love to get to know him, too."

"Oh, you little darling!" Aunt Petunia exclaimed. "I'm afraid he's still at work. But I promise we'll have a proper family meeting some weekend after the exams and he'll be there. We could even make it a birthday celebration for you and of course a celebration of your liberation from that horrible institute."

Harry wasn't sure why she thought Hogwarts so very horrible, but it didn't matter. She had his mother's phone number and she wanted to know him! She was happy that he was back in the Muggle world where she could meet him. That was some consolation for having done so badly in his classes today.

Dursley saved the number on his phone, but after checking the time insisted that they'd already taken too long talking to his mother to still call Harry's today.

"We'll do it tomorrow evening," he promised. "It'll be something to look forward to."

Harry had to agree that he'd probably need that, but the next morning he discovered that he had only one class that day and while he didn't understand a word of what the professor said and didn't even have Dursley there to comfort him with his friendly presence he also didn't embarrass himself as the professor never called on him. He didn't even seem to notice that there was a new face in his class at all.

It rather reminded Harry of History of Magic at Hogwarts, where Professor Binns could never even remember his students' names.

Harry decided that it was quite a bit of good luck, took as many notes as he could and then returned to his dorm getting lost on his way twice, but finding it at last. The room was empty. Apparently his new dorm-mates were all in class or maybe off to meet friends.

So Harry got out one of his study programs again and after some trial and error remembered how to start it. It gave him a moment of triumph when the window opened, but that was short-lived. He soon had to realise that he had forgotten a lot of his primary school Math.

How long would it take him to catch up on six years of Math at his current learning rate?

He'd have to ask for a full set of study programs for each of his subjects for his birthday, quite a lot of gifts. Hopefully his family would understand how much he needed them.

When his dorm-mates returned there was some laughter about the simplicity of his revision material.

"You'll never be ready in time for exams if you start that far back," Harper said. "They are on this year's material."

"I have little chance of passing those anyway," Harry admitted. "I don't understand anything in class. It's all so different here and there is too little time. I'm going to revise everything to be ready in time for the NEWTs."

"The what?" Harper stared at him.

Oh right! What were the Muggle exams called again?

"The ... you know, next year's exams. We called them NEWTs at Hogwarts Institute. Just a silly little joke."

Harper still looked bewildered, but luckily didn't ask him to explain the joke.

Dursley didn't come up before lunch, but luckily Napier was there to lead Harry to the 'mess' as the place was actually called. After the experience of erring about on his own after class Harry wasn't eager to try to find his way there by himself. If he got lost again he might just arrive too late to get any food and he was hungry.

Dursley already was there and ate with them, but he had Boxing training right after lunch and the others all had French.

So Harry once again had to set out for the dorm alone and against the stream of boys hurrying to various classes. Just when he thought he'd finally fought his way through the masses and was taking a relieved breath a sudden sharp pain shot through his scar and his head felt as if it were about to split. Just what he needed!

He leaned against a wall and closed his eyes for a minute or so, but it didn't get any better and he had important studying to do!

So he opened his eyes again and started looking for his dorm despite the pain. This time he got lost five times and the headache didn't exactly help his Math skills either. Eventually it subsided to a dull throbbing that he was almost used to from his fifth year. He could at least manage to study in this state.

Still his progress was slower than he'd have liked and he was quite glad for the distraction of dinner and the phone call to his mother.

Much to his delight he found that she had even been worried about him and was for once more interested in talking about him then about Mafalda even though she was still at Hogwarts and ... "Oh Harry, the Death Eaters took over the Ministry today. Claudius and I are packing right now. We are moving into his work flat in Glasgow and I will probably get a Muggle job there as well. That way we can cut all ties with the wizarding world and disappear."

For a moment Harry felt relieved that his family would be safe, but then it came to him.

"But Mother! What about Mafalda? Are you just leaving her behind?" he asked.

"She is only twelve now and knows nothing about us so they have no reason to question her and with any luck the war will be over before she turns sixteen. She'll be fine ... we hope."

Oh dear! Harry could only hope that she was right. Mafalda still was the daughter of a squib and a Muggle-born even though she had been raised entirely in the magical world.

"Did you get my things? My wand and the other magical stuff, I mean," Harry asked. "And is Hedwig with you?"

"We got a package containing all sorts of odds and ends," his mother reported. "But there was no wand in it. And who's Hedwig?"

"The wand ought to have arrived separately," Harry explained. "I forgot to put it in when I posted the package. Professor Flittwick found it when he checked my luggage and said it would be sent with the package, but Hedwig had already left with it. Hedwig's my owl. She hasn't arrived here yet."

"No, we didn't get the wand. We didn't get any mail from the institute. As far as they are concerned your father is responsible for you so they probably sent it to him."

That was a terrible blow.

"And Hedwig?" Harry asked, voice shaking.

"Well ... she might be with your father as well," his mother said a little hesitantly. "And that is for the best. Muggles don't keep owls as pets, Harry. You can't keep her at the institute and we couldn't keep her in the Muggle flat either. We can keep your magical books and toys in the box and lock it in a cupboard so no Muggle visitor will see them, but an owl needs room to move about and fly."

No wand, no Hedwig and You-Know-Who had taken over, so attempting to contact his friends at Hogwarts per Muggle post would probably be too dangerous as well.

"What's all this stuff about magic and wands? And who is Hedwig? I thought your sister's called Mafalda?"

And to top it all off Harry had forgotten that Dursley was listening to every word he said to his mother. Now he'd have to explain the wizarding world to a Muggle and hope that he would be believed and not declared insane.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: James has to make some decisions.

Chapter 11: The Bribe

It had been a bit of a shock to James Potter to find that his wife still had ties to the Death Eaters, but after a shouting match and a day of contemplating what to do about the takeover he had finally relented.

"I won't take the mark," he declared when he sat down at the breakfast table the morning after the news of Minister Scrimgour's death.

"Of course not," Narcissa assured him. "We won't be Death Eaters. We are merely loyal, pure-blooded subjects of whatever government is in charge. As it is our duty as citizens. That is exactly what I told Bella myself. The Ministry pays you, so you do and talk as the Ministry tells you. All you have to do is continue to go to work, do whatever they tell you to and nod along with whatever they say. And of course we'll both swear we know nothing of little Harry's whereabouts. It must have been his mudblood mother that spirited him away."

"For all I know it might well have been Lily. I have to warn her, though," he declared. "And get in contact with ... some other people I know. Perhaps we can even use my position in the Ministry to help the Muggle-borns somehow."

"Be careful!" Narcissa warned him. "Your relationship with Harry is already putting us in danger. We might still lose our property if not our lives if they suspect us of treachery."

James nodded. "Don't worry. I will be. I wouldn't ..."

The doorbell interrupted him and a moment later the Potter house-elf popped into the room.

"A Master Severus Snape to see you, Master Potter, Sir!" he squeaked.

"Snivellus?" James gasped.

"Oh, for our Lord's sake, don't call him that!" Narcissa gasped. "He's very high in our Lord's favour. He must be here to test our loyalty!"

James couldn't help snorting at that, but he decided that it was probably better not to reveal Snape's double ... or could it be triple? ... agent status to his weather-vane wife. Instead he made sure to see the Potions Master alone.

"I see you have been quick to arrange yourself with out new overlord," Snape commented by way of greeting.

"You can blame Narcissa for that," James returned coldly. "It was her idea. She went straight to her sister without even consulting me first."

Snape sneered. "So you intend to make a loud public protest now?"

James sighed. "No," he admitted. "Believe me, I want to, but it would hardly serve our cause. If they keep me on as an Auror I might be able to help some people escape. If I stand up against You-Know-Who publicly I will only get myself and possibly Narcissa killed without being able to help anyone."

"So you have learned some wisdom over the years after all. Perhaps there is hope for Gryffindor yet then," Snape commented. "I need to search your house."

"The ... Narcissa won't like having her things disturbed. Can't you just tell Vol ..."

Snape raised his hand forestalling him with a hiss. "The Dark Lord - or Our Lord if you can bring yourself to say it - has nothing to do with it and neither do Narcissa's belongings. Perhaps my wording was unclear. I need to search the house you inherited from Black."

"The old headquarters? Whatever for? It is empty and he is dead. His loyalties can hardly matter to V... the Dark Lord now and surely you didn't tell him that it was the Order's headquarters until Albus' death?"

"Didn't I just tell you that the Dark Lord has nothing to do with it? I have to search it in the Order's interest."

"The Order?" James echoed utterly confused. "But it was our headquarters. We know what's in there."

In response Snape held a locket out to him. "This is what Albus brought back from his very last mission just before his death."

James took it and turned it around in his hand. It seemed in no way remarkable.

"And what does that have to do with my house?"

"Open it."

James did and found the note inside.

"R.A.B." Snape explained. "Regulus Arcturus Black. Or at least the time and circumstances of his death make it seem likely. He can't have survived the retrieval of the locket for very long so there is a good chance that it is still in the house."

For a moment James just stared at him, but then it sunk in.

"Kreacher!" he called.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: So how well can Dursley keep a secret?

Chapter 12: Magic is Might

"Magic," Dursley kept repeating. "Magic with wands and all. Wow!"

"You mustn't tell anyone!" Harry reminded him struggling to ignore his headache. "It's forbidden and I couldn't even prove it because I don't have my wand anymore. People would think we are just crazy."

Dursley nodded and promised, but not long after their return to the dorm he asked: "So if you inherited your magic from your mother and your mother is my mother's sister, how come I didn't inherit it?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "But I think your mother didn't inherit it either."

"Sheesh, Dursley!" Harper declared. "You really are too stupid to live. There is no magic. Prewett's just tricked you into making a fool of yourself."

"Did not!" Harry declared hastily. "It's not really magic we're talking about. It's just ... uh ..."

"You told Dursley that something was 'like magic', didn't you?" Napier interceded after a moment of embarrassed silence. "And now Dursley thinks that it actually is magic. You aren't the first to make that mistake."

"But he inherited it and I didn't!" Dursley complained.

"And he inherited bad eyesight," Napier said pointing at Harry's glasses. "And you didn't. And he didn't inherit your large bones and muscles."

"I get those from my Dad," Dursley protested. "My Dad isn't related to Prewett's Dad."

"What I mean, Dursley," Napier said patiently. "Is that you and Prewett aren't very alike even if you are related. There's no reason to expect you'd inherit that one particular thing he did when there are so many other things that you didn't."

Dursley frowned. "I'd still like to be able to do magic. It'd be so cool!"

Harper groaned.

"Sorry," Harry said leaving it for each of the boys to decide for himself what he was apologising for and to whom.

"Well, you couldn't have known," Napier said. "But please don't tell Dursley that anything is like magic again. You see what it does to him."

Indeed Harry did and he regretted having told Dursley the truth, but he didn't see what else he could have done after what he'd said on the telephone. At least he fully understood what the statute of secrecy was for now. He was probably very lucky that Dursley was well known to be stupid and likely to repeat misunderstood tales or else his dorm-mates might have reported him to the nurses or professors and he would have had to explain ... well, either that he had lied to make fun of Dursley or the truth. The truth would probably have gotten him sent to an insane asylum and the lie would have earned him a detention and the reputation of a liar and troublemaker when he already had to deal with being new and being considered stupid.

He wasn't sure whether it was good or bad that they were doing mostly exam revision in all his classes now. On the one hand it gave him an overview of everything he should have learned that year, so he'd know what he had to study up on and he took notes as fast as he could scribble all lesson in a way he'd only known Hermione to do at Hogwarts. On the other hand, however, it made it obvious to his classmates that he didn't know anything about any of the topics and made him the laughing stock of the entire year.

He had never been considered particularly smart at Hogwarts institute either, but he'd had better and worse subjects and had assumed that his fellow students thought him about normally talented. They certainly hadn't run about telling each other the stupid things he'd said in class that day.

Of course Terry wasn't doing that great either and Harry sometimes heard tales of his failures repeated with just as much giggling. But since the two of them had no classes together and had their dorms on different floors they saw little of each other forcing each of them to bear the stigma of stupidity alone.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 13: The Muggleborn Registration Committee

Harry hadn't had any visions from You-Know-Who since that horrible day in the Ministry of Magic when his secret uncle Sirius had died. That night however he had what he knew immediately was such a vision even though it did not start in the foggy entrance hall of the Ministry.

Instead he was in a strange street outside a very strange little house and a woman was assuring him that somebody wasn't there in a language he had never heard before and didn't understand. Yet somehow he still knew that was what she was saying.

He forced his way inside anyway and talked to an old man who spoke yet another strange language. Again Harry understood that he was saying that something wasn't there. He wanted that something however and so he forced his way into the old man's mind and saw a laughing boy flee through a window with a stolen wand.

Harry had no idea who that boy might be, but for some reason he was satisfied and set to killing the two strangers.

He woke up screaming.

"What the hell, Prewett?"

"What's going on?"

"Sorry," Harry said rather sheepishly and put on his glasses. "I had a nightmare."

His old dorm-mates had been used to that and had known why he had them, but these Muggle boys knew nothing about You-Know-Who and mustn't be told.

"I'm afraid I get those sometimes," he admitted just in case the visions should continue. He wouldn't believe them or act on them this time, of course, but when he was asleep they felt real and he couldn't help screaming.

"Was it about the exams?" Napier asked not without pity.

"No, it was something really strange," Harry admitted. "I was in some other country, I think, and in the past. There was a little house with an old man and a woman living in it all alone and someone broke in. And then he murdered them."

The other boys stared at him.

"Well, that's one for your Psychology class, Taylor," Napier said. "I bet the old dream-interpreter can read something exciting into it."

"Aren't two murders exciting enough for you?" Taylor asked.

"They definitely are for me," Harry declared. "I really hope I never dream anything like that again."

"Don't jinx it!" Dursley warned.

"No, no," Taylor said. "It doesn't work that way with nightmares. You actually have to tell them so they won't come back."

"Well, Prewett just did," Oâ€™Reilly pointed out. "So we can all go back to sleep now."

And he turned over and drew his blanket over his head, but it was easier said than done.

Every time one of them was just about to drop off another would remember some question he'd meant to ask one of them and they'd start talking again. In the morning they were all quite grumpy and tired and it didn't help at all that this was their exam day.

If only it had been a day earlier they could have gone back to bed after breakfast.

"It's all fucking Prewett's fault," Harry overheard Harper tell Taylor while they stood in line for their toast. "Why couldn't that idiot just have stayed at his stupid institute for retards?"

It hurt even though Harry had known for a while that Harper didn't like him.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 14: The Thief

The exams were a lot worse than Harry had imagined, and that even though he had imagined that he would fail everything. He hadn't expected the examining Professors to sneer and ridicule him or that there would be candidates from other classes present that would laugh at his mistakes.

In his more hopeful moments Harry had nevertheless secretly hoped that his exams would turn out better than he feared in at least one subject allowing him to forego one of the study programs he planned to ask for for his birthday and ask for his own phone instead.

Now however the exam day had come and it crushed those hopes very quickly. Harry had done all he could to learn the questions and answers he'd heard in class by heart so he'd be able to repeat them at the exams as if he knew something about the subject. But never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that he'd be examined by different teachers who worded their questions differently!

Being examined by a different Professor than he'd been taught by wasnâ€™t entirely new to Harry of course. It had been that way at the OWLs as well, after all. He hadn't expected it this year, though, and it would have been less embarrassing to have his own Professsors since they already knew how bad he was.

According to Napier, however, it was quite normal at Smeltings institute.

"I didn't know they allow anything else at other institutes," he commented. "I mean, how else are they going to check the quality of their teachers?"

That concept shocked Harry out of his misery for a moment, though it didn't help him find any appetite for the soup that was growing cold in front of him.

"You mean the Professors that have been teaching me for only two weeks will get bad grades because I didn't manage to catch up to their classes?" he asked. "They won't lose their jobs because of me, will they?"

"Who cares?" Dursley said with a shrug.

"Yeah, they are all nasty bastards, anyway," Polkiss agreed.

He too had been ridiculed in his last exam before lunch.

"I don't think so in your case," Napier said, though he didn't sound at all sure. "The headmaster knows that they haven't really had time to teach you and that you were transferred from an institute that was closed for bad results. It wouldn't be fair to blame them for the bad performance of your old teachers."

No, it really wouldn't be fair, but what if the headmaster forgot?

He'd still given the answers that he'd prepared whenever a question had sounded at all similar to the ones he had learned and sometimes even when he saw no similarity at all. At least that would sound as if he'd merely misunderstood the questions, he'd hoped!

But then after lunch he was sent on to the practical exams.

Harry had never before needed the comfort of talking with his mother as much as he did on that day, but of course Aunt Petunia, too, was very eager to hear about her son's exams and of course Dursley, too loved to talk with his relatives, but to Harry those phone calls had become the only good thing in his life and it was terrible to wait until Dursley was ready to pass on the phone seeing the precious minutes between that moment and curfew ticking away.

"Well, there were two Math problems where I really didn't know what to do," Dursley reported. "So I didn't even try those. I think the others are fine and it'll just look like I ran out of time."

Harry hadn't known what to do with any of the problems, so he'd done whatever he could think of doing with the numbers in them hoping that some of it had to be right.

"Oh yes, I'm pretty sure that I passed," Dudley assured his mother. "It probably won't be a particularly good grade, you know. I'll have an excellent Sports grade for my boxing, though!"

For a moment Harry wished that there were such a thing as a grade for playing Quidditch, but then he realised that he could no longer play Quidditch anyway.

Not that it would have improved his results here in any way since Muggles didn't even know what Quidditch was.

Finally, finally Dursley finished his call and pushed the phone into Harry's bandaged hand. He had to take it back and dial for Harry, though, because the bandages on his hands made Harry's fingers too thick and clumsy.

But then Harry finally had the chance to poor out his heart to his mother.

"Oh Mother, did you know that there are practical exams in Chemistry?" he burst out.

"Well," he heard Lilly Evans Prewett's thoughtful voice. "I believe that it is a lot like Potions so it seems logical that it would have them."

"But we never brewed anything during revisions!" Harry exclaimed. "And there weren't even any kettles, only lots of really weird looking glass things."

"Muggle technology is a lot more advanced than wizarding items," his Mother allowed. "Wasn't there a pot? We use pots instead of kettles for cooking."

Harry had to think about that for a moment, but he was pretty sure that he hadn't seen any pots around either.

"No just the glass things," he said. "So I took the biggest glass container, filled that with water and ... Did you know that one doesn't start by heating water in Chemistry?"

"No," Lily admitted. "But I've never had a Chemistry lesson, you know."

"Well, I figured out how to make a fire on a weird thing that the Professor had called a burner and put the glass on it and ... Well, I had no idea what the thing I was supposed to make was, but there were some powders and liquids on the worktable so when the water started boiling I just took the first one in reach and poured it in."

"I don't know, dear," his Mother said a little doubtfully. "Are you sure that was a safe thing to do? You know it can result in all sorts of accidents if one just adds random ingredients in Potions."

Harry nodded sadly, though she couldn't see it on Dursley's cheap monitor-less phone.

"It exploded at the second ingredient," he admitted. "Burned my hands and threw glass splinters in every direction. And then one of the other powders caught fire and the Professor pulled me out of the room and rang the fire alarm bell and then he yelled at me until they'd extinguished the fire and took me to the hospital wing."

"Oh dear! Are you hurt very badly?"

"No, no," I just won't be able to type very well for a few days," Harry assured her. "There was more expensive stuff destroyed in the fire, though. So ... I can pay for it once I am of age. I just want you to know that before the institute sends you the bill."

No, after that it would be really unwise to ask for a phone, though he was determined that his mother should not have to suffer the financial damage. He'd sell Uncle Sirius' house right after his birthday and pay the school himself. He'd never wanted to live there anyway.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 15: The Goblin's Revenge

The next day was the exam day for the seventh years and therefore entirely free for Harry and his fellow sixth years and so Harry decided to take a few minutes off from studying to make sure that his lack of Muggle knowledge wouldn't do his teachers any harm.

He didn't remember the way to the headmaster's office, but by asking directions several times on his way he got there eventually.

The headmaster's secretary was quite surprised to see him and even said so when Harry told him he wanted to see the headmaster.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "I wasn't aware that he'd ordered anyone to see him at this time."

"He didn't order me. I just have to tell him something important," Harry explained. "And I'm Harry number ... Prewett. I'm Harry Prewett," he added hastily when he realised he hadn't answered the actual question.

"Fifth year?" the secretary guessed.

"Sixth," Harry corrected.

"And what is so important that you cannot settle it with me or the corridor nurse?"

Harry had no idea what a corridor nurse might be, but he was quite sure that none of the nurses had anything to do with their exams or grades so he decided it didn't matter.

"It's about my exam results," he stated.

"If you want to file a complaint ..." the secretary started and Harry shook his head hastily.

"Oh no, Sir, No! It's just that Napier said that the Professors get graded on our exams, too and that wouldn't be fair, because they've only had two weeks to teach me. It's my old Professors that were bad. That's why our institute was closed. So I want to remind the headmaster that he shouldn't use my grades to judge any of his Professors."

"Oh, you're one of those boys!" the secretary said laughing. "I heard all three of you were dreadful, but I guess they at least taught you to be a man about it."

This seemed to be a quite positive judgement so Harry nodded eagerly.

"I'm sure the other two would do the same, Sir," he assured the secretary. "It's just that they probably don't know that the Professors get graded, too. We're not used to that."

"Well, I can't let you disturb the headmaster because of that," the secretary said. "But I'll make a note of it and tell him when he is less busy."

Harry nodded again and thanked the secretary, but he couldn't help thinking of Professor Dumbledore at Hogwarts institute and how often he'd seen him in his office, not to mention that he'd always been at meals for the whole institute to see. So far the visit to his office at his arrival had been the only time that Harry had seen his new headmaster.

That evening brought another surprise. There was no leaving feast at Smeltings institute. They just got dinner as always and the line seemed a little shorter, the room a little less crowded.

"Leaving Feast?" Napier repeated when Harry asked him about it. "What is a leaving feast?"

"Why it's a big feast to say good bye to the seventh years at their last dinner at the institute," Harry explained. "There are all sorts of delicious things to eat and the headmaster makes a speech to wish them well in their chosen careers."

Napier shook his head in confusion, but to everybody's surprise Taylor spoke up.

"Oh, I know what you mean," he said. "Except we don't have a feast for everybody. There's a special celebration for the seventh years where they get their diplomas and the headmaster speaks and then there's a buffet where you can actually choose what you want to eat. That's just for the seventh years, though," he explained. "Not for everybody."

"It was for everybody at my old institute," Harry said a little sadly. "And everybody would look forward to it and ... Well, it's not like I know any of the seventh years here."

"Did you at the old institute?" Taylor sounded quite surprised.

"Don't you?" Dursley asked equally astonished. "I do."

"You do?" Taylor repeated incredulously. "From where?"

"Why from boxing, of course," Dursley said. "There are boys from every year from third up there."

"Choir, too," Harper added. "Every year including even first."

"History club," was all Napier had to say about it.

At least they weren't that completely different after all.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 16: Godric's Hollow

Harry was called back to the headmaster's office after dinner and almost with hardly anyone about that he could ask for directions almost got lost on the way. When he reached the secretary's office he was therefore quite worried that he'd be scolded for being late, but instead he was told to wait.

Apparently the headmaster was busy.

Harry hated waiting in that grey, undecorated office. He'd already seen every spot on the floor when he'd arrived and so time seemed to crawl.

What might the headmaster want to see him about? The fire in the Chemistry classroom, obviously! The damage was probably very expensive and putting a strain on the institute's budget. The Muggles couldn't simply cast reparo on their equipment after all.

The headmaster would want to charge Harry's parents and ... No, he couldn't let them take the money they'd intended for his birthday gifts and Christmas presents. He needed those study programs too desperately.

But he also couldn't force such expenses on the Prewetts. Claudius Prewett didn't really have anything to do with Harry and he and his wife weren't rich. They didn't even own a house like Auror Potter did.

He considered telling the headmaster to charge Auror Potter for the damage. He definitely didn't feel guilty loosing that old Death Eater any money and he'd be able to afford it easily. After all he actually currently still owned two houses. His own and the one Harry had inherited from Uncle Sirius, though of course the latter was actually useless.

But the Muggles didn't know who Auror Potter was and Harry was supposed to be hiding from the wizarding world and especially the Death Eaters. Most likely Auror Potter would report his hiding place to You-Know-Who right away.

If only he were already of age and could sell the house!

Finally the headmaster's door opened and to Harry's surprise Terry came out. He gave Harry a wide relieved smile.

"You too, eh?" he said. "Well, I'm not surprised. We just weren't taught the right stuff at Hogwarts. To be honest I almost wish I'd never been sent there, even though it was ... you know."

Harry nodded, though he wasn't at all sure what Terry meant. There was no time to ask him now. He had to focus on what he was to tell the headmaster.

"Well, Prewett," the headmaster greeted him. "I assume you know yourself that your exam results are a complete disaster."

"I'll pay for the damaged chemistry equipment and classroom," Harry told him. "I just ... could you somehow wait until I am of age? Because it wouldn't be fair to make my parents pay. They don't have much money."

The headmaster's lips twitched.

"And how do you intend to pay when you are of age if your parents have no money and you don't even have a job?"

"I'll have a house," Harry explained. "I inherited it from my uncle, but I can't sell it until I am of age and ... my parents don't have it until then. Somebody else does."

"And I assume that somebody refuses to sell it for you?" the headmaster asked.

Harry nodded, though of course he had never asked Auror Potter to do so.

"He is quite wise to do so. A house generates rents every month," the headmaster explained. "And it will be much wiser to use those to pay for the damage even if, which seems unlikely, it should take several months to pay it off entirely that way. Then you will still have the house and future rents to use as you please afterwards."

"But there are no rents," Harry explained. "There isn't anybody living in the house."

This seemed to surprise the headmaster.

"Then what did your uncle do with it?"

"Live in it," Harry said. "Until he died. It's just a little house and very old."

"He didn't have a company flat?"

Harry shook his head.

"It was close to his company," he lied to explain that away.

"Well, then the best idea will be to clean it out and rent it to one of your uncle's co-workers," the headmaster decided. "That will eventually enable you to pay for the damage you have caused the institute. Selling the house would bring you a lot more money than you will need right now, but nothing for the future. That would be very stupid. Do you understand that?"

Harry nodded though he didn't really. He suspected it would be unwise to tell a Muggle any more about such an unusual house and he could always claim that he had gotten the money from rents or borrowed it when he paid his debt after selling the house.

"Now, on to the matter I actually wanted to see you about," the headmaster continued. "I know that you are a very well-meaning and kind-hearted boy, Prewett, and I quite like you for it, but ... Well, I am sure that you are aware that your exam results are far from satisfactory. I am sure you did your best and that much of this is to be blamed on your old institute. Nevertheless it is quite obvious that you are not and never have been cut out for higher education. Perhaps if you had attended this institute from the start and put in a lot of very hard work you could have just barely passed your A-levels, but as things are I must tell you that any effort you put into it now will be wasted. You won't make it and if you were to make it you would never make use of one of those A-levels. You are the type of boy that will always be happier doing uncomplicated work with his hands. An assembly line job in a factory will make you much happier than the complicated lab work your old institute has set you to dream of. I only have your best interests at heart when I tell you that you'd spare yourself a lot of frustration and disappointment if you leave us now. It would not be difficult at all to arrange for you to go to the unemployment camp with the graduates who haven't got a job yet. They will only leave tomorrow morning. At the camp they have experts who will help you find the perfect company to suit you. It might be a disappointment now, but once you arrive at your company and see how productive you can be there you will soon realise how happy it makes you and be grateful for this advice."


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 17: Bathilda's Secret

Somehow James Potter had not expected to meet with so many difficulties when he'd first decided to pretend to have been converted to the Death Eaters' side. Dolores Umbridge certainly didn't seem to be facing that many! All she'd had to do was declare her new allegiance and they had made her Minister of Magic.

Of course on the other hand James was a lot better off than her predecessor. Even in the newly restructured Auror department nobody knew exactly how Rufus Scrimgeour had died, but everybody agreed on one thing: He could not have had a pleasant death.

James wasn't the sort of man to be content with merely being alive, though. He wanted to have adventures and perform great deeds and those were quite impossible to perform if you were distrusted and supervised at every step.

"And all because of Lily's stupid brat," he grumbled to himself as he disapparated after his interview with the minister.

Of course he had wanted a son to carry on the Potter name at least as much as Lily had, but Harry had been an all-round disappointment, a coward and an idiot. It had to be Lily's blood that was at fault. Surely the old pure Potter line could never have produced such a lack-wit!

How could he ever have been so stupid to marry a Muggleborn? And without taking a look at her family first!

"Maybe she bewitched me," he decided as he started to hike up to the castle from the apparition point.

Anti-apparition wards were rather a nuisance to traffic, but then the children did need the protection as the disappearance of about a quarter of the student body to who knew where proved.

"Maybe she even abducted him herself," James theorised. "He isn't Muggleborn so why would the Order hide him along with the Muggleborns?"

Surely if the Order had done it he would have been informed where the brat had been taken. James had received Harry's wand and owl from Hogwarts to be sure, but since there had been no other magical possessions he suspected that that had been some kind of trick. Most likely the wand wasn't even really Harry's, though of course if Lily had taken him he probably didn't need his wand anymore. She always had been more Muggle than witch after all and hadn't hiding the boy in a Muggle institute been her idea as well?

He passed the gates of Hogwarts unchallenged and wasn't stopped until he reached the gargoyles that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's office.

Those proved to be quite a challenge, however. Albus Dumbledore's passwords had always been easy to guess, but Severus Snape was much more difficult.

James had gone through all the obscure and less obscure potions ingredients he could remember and had just started on actual potions when the door opened by itself and Snape appeared on his way out.

"Wolfsbane potion?" James repeated hopefully.

"Whatever do you want with that, Potter?" Snape replied with a sneer. "Don't you know that it is poisonous? It must never be handed over to anyone other than the werewolf that is supposed to take it and then only just before the full moon."

"So it's not the password?" James asked still clinging to a shred of hope.

"No," Snape said with a snort. "If you wished to see me, though, might I point out that you have already found me and no longer need the password?"

That was true.

"I need to know where Harry is," James explained his errand. "The Ministry won't trust me until I hand him over to them and it would really be in everybody's best interest if he could be brought around to seeing the matter in a more reasonable way. Albus Dumbledore is dead and the boy stupid and easily led. It shouldn't be difficult to reform him. He doesn't need to die."

"Doesn't he?" Severus asked quite surprised by that statement. "I am not sure the Dark Lord will see it quite your way, though I must agree on your judgement of the boy's intellect. Why did you come to me, though? I do not have him and if I knew where he's been taken and by whom don't you think I would have reported it days ago? I was a spy for Dumbledore, or at least that's what he thought, but he never informed me of any plans to have the Muggleborns hidden away in case of his death. I'm as clueless as you are."

"What of his friends then? My other son Draco? Can't I talk to him? They were close. Surely Draco or one of his dorm-mates will know where he's been taken!"

"Very well, Potter," Severus said with a sneer. "You have my permission to see your step-son. Professor Slughorn, the head of Slytherin house, should know where to find him. You will probably find him in the Potions classroom."

No need to make it easy for Potter and point out that that was no longer in the same location as it had been in their school days.

"Oh, and Potter?" he called after the wizard as he was about to hurry away. "Do try to find him quickly. I hear the Dark Lord has set a very deadly trap for him should he lose his way so far as to end up in Godric's Hollow."

After their parting Severus Snape turned and gave the gargoyles the password "Lily" to return to his office and dutifully report James Potter's efforts to Voldemort.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 18: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore

It took James quite a while to find the Potions classroom and when he did it was only due to it bursting open to release a group of children into the corridor at the end of a lesson.

Perhaps that was for the best, though. This way he wasn't disrupting a lesson.

The class seemed unnaturally small even for a NEWT one, five students in total. Three glanced at him curiously, but passed him by, the remaining two were Draco and a rather sad looking boy wearing a Gryffindor crest on his robe. It pleased James to see that Draco had Gryffindor friends, though of course Harry was a Gryffindor as well.

The Weasley boy that had gotten James in trouble with Scrimegour so long ago was nowhere to be seen. Apparently he didn't take Potions and that too pleased James.

"Father!" Draco greeted him with a wide, delighted smile and a hug. "What brings you here?"

"Harry's disappearance," James explained. "Do you happen to know something about it?"

Draco shook his head. "I was in class. Ancient Runes. All I know is that a first year Hufflepuff came in and said Professor McGonagall wanted to see Hermione and Professor Flittwick Terry and Anthony. They got up and Hermione asked me to take her things along to lunch if she didn't come back before the end of the lesson. She was sitting next to me, you see."

"And then?" James demanded "What about Harry?"

What did he care about any Hermione?

Draco shrugged. "Then nothing. Hermione didn't come back and neither did Terry and Anthony. So at the end of the lesson I packed her bag along with mine, slung one over each shoulder and went to lunch. They weren't there either, but a lot of people were missing so I thought I was just early. Except they never came. There were students missing from every year and every house. Sally-Anne from my own class, Harry, Dean, Hermione and Lavender from Gryffindor." Then he abruptly turned to the boy next to him. "We think Neville here is the last person that ever saw the missing Gryffindors."

James gave the sad boy a closer look. He didn't look like much of a witness, but at least he wasn't the Weasley boy.

"Harry and I were in the common room," Neville reported. "All of a sudden children started coming in with strange white bags and going up to their dorms. Then they came down again with full bags and left. We thought it had to be some class project or something. Then Harry got called to Professor McGonagall's office and came back with Hermione, Dean and Lavender and those strange bags. They walked right past me and when I asked what was going on they said they were in a hurry and would tell me later. They left like the others had and I never saw them again. Dean left a cardboard box on his bed that disappeared sometime before the end of the next class. I heard that the Hufflepuffs that disappeared left cardboard boxes as well, but Harry didn't. We don't know whether Sally-Anne or the Ravenclaws did, because nobody went into their dorms during that time. Most people were in class or the library."

This was very strange. "And you have heard nothing from them since? Seen no trace?"

Neville shook his head.

"Some of the other children left some possessions behind," Draco volunteered. "A quill on a bedside table, a stuffed dragon under a bed. One first year forgot her wand on her pillow. But well, they were in a hurry and they must have thought they'd be back soon or else they wouldn't have promised Neville to explain later."

"Anatol number three says he saw some children carrying such bags when he went to the bathroom," Neville reported. "They went into the corridor that leads to the lakeside door. He thought they must be going to feed the squid so now some first years claim that the Muggleborns have been fed to the squid and refuse to go near the lake."

"It's all so strange," Draco said. "The rooms all seem too big with so many people missing."

James decided to question the Weasley boy after all and did it quite a bit more thoroughly than he'd been comfortable being with Draco, but it soon became clear that Neville and Anatol were the best witnesses in the castle and he couldn't get hold of Anatol before Professor Grubbly-Plank caught him 'sneaking around the institute' as she called it and told him to get lost or show her a search warrant.

James promised to get, but took a detour though the lakeside entrance to inspect the corridor.

The first room was a dusty storage for all sorts of outdated cleaning utensils, possibly a museum for the institute's house-elves, James theorised. He cast some magic detection spells, but the results were quite uninteresting. Of course there were spells on the tools and magic in the potions, but they were all quite old and fading from lack of use. The newest spell was a muffliato that had been cast several years ago, probably by some pranksters that had used the room to plan their mischief.

Some more recent silencing and misdirection spells appeared in the corridor itself, though. Those might have been connected to the children's disappearance, but all James' attempts to identify the caster or even just the type of wand used failed thanks to the sheer amount of magical traces of spells cast by all sorts of different people in the castle every day. Spell signatures interfered with each other to the point where it was impossible to connect any wand or caster with any specific spell with anything approaching certainty.

The next room was a disused office and ... what was this? There was a dorm here? When had students ever slept outside the four houses?

Never mind, the dorm had been spelled shut for at least two decades before James had opened it so it clearly had nothing to do with the mystery he was trying to solve.

He felt a moment of triumph when he opened the next door and saw that it was free of dust, but was disappointed again a moment later. All it held were clean uniforms and some few transfer clothes that seemed to somehow have been forgotten when the others had been returned to the primary institutes they had come from. Of course it would be a whole year before they were needed again and perhaps some had required mending.

There were freshening spells and summoning charms to detect here in addition to a lot of house-elf magic. None of it was in the least suspicious, though.

James left again and continued his inspection down the corridor where he found two wardrobes that he actually remembered from his own long ago transfer day and two long, empty tables along the corridor wall. Then he reached the door and stepped outside blinking at the sudden flood of sunlight after the darkness of the corridor.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 19: The Silver Doe

The arrival of the new first years at Smeltings institute remained almost unnoticed by the older ones. Harry wouldn't have realised it at all except that the second years were strutting about loudly declaring what babies the new arrivals were and that they had to serve and obey their elders and betters.

The new seventh years pretended to pay it no mind, except that Dursley mentioned that it was a good feeling to finally be the oldest at some point.

There had been no speeches made to the whole student body and there was no special dinner, at least not in Harry's eyes. The other boys had seemed quite delighted to get beefsteak and trifle that evening.

Of course then there was no sorting either, though there were little boys looking lost in the corridors and asking Harry the way to places he'd never been either. As far as he was concerned being oldest felt more embarrassing than great.

Even birthdays turned out to be rather lame in the Muggle world, though perhaps getting only study programs had something to do with that.

The gifts were delivered with the mail and had to be fetched from the orderly nurse's office and the cake called for in the kitchen. Harry shared it with his dorm-mates and Polkiss, unpacked his programs and then slid the first one into a computer and got right to work. He had to catch up to his classes!

So far all his studying was showing very little success, though and sometimes Harry despaired over ever catching up on six years of Muggle education. He was still bottom of all his classes despite having been put with the very worst students in his year in every one of them and his professors kept recommending that he should transfer to the unemployment camp and start looking for a job.

And sometimes Harry wondered whether he should. He could never become a medical brewer with Muggle NEWTs ... or A-levels as he was beginning to remember they were called. There should be no problem getting a job as a gardener in the Muggle world, though.

His family would be disappointed - and so would he. What if You-Know-Who was defeated this year and Harry could transfer back to Hogwarts if only he was still in school?

Besides, would any company keep a gardener who kept suffering from horrible headaches? They seemed to be getting worse all the time and on two occasions he'd actually had to ask to be excused from attending lessons because of them. The institute's doctor was quite concerned because none of the remedies he'd tried had shown much effect and said that if the headaches persisted much longer he'd have to send Harry to a specialist at a proper hospital.

At least Harry had gotten new glasses out of it, though. They were quite a bonus even though they didn't improve his vision very much. They looked much more adult and elegant than the old ones and even the optician had remarked on how much they improved Harry's looks.

Next to all these things the persistent dreams of a smiling blond thief faded to insignificance. After the first time they hadn't included any more murders. All they were about was Harry desperately trying to find out who the boy might be, but once awake Harry forgot him almost entirely and focussed on his classes, study papers, career options and the ever popular question of what was for dinner.

To these interests he eventually added how well Dursley would place in the institute's boxing tournament.

"If I'm one of the best three I get to box in the inter-institute tournaments and if I'm really good there, maybe even internationally. Then I might get the chance to be a professional boxer. Wouldn't that be cool?" Dursley informed his dorm-mates one evening.

"But Dursley," Harry said. "Uncle Vernon has this really productive secretary position at Grunnings reserved for you. Don't you want that?"

But Dursley only shrugged indifferently.

"I guess if I can't be a professional boxer I'll do that," he said not sounding at all happy with Uncle Vernon's thoughtfulness and Harry decided not to bring it up again.

Sometimes he did wish that Claudius Prewett and his mother could reserve a position for him somewhere.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 20: Xenophilius Lovegood

James cast some more revealing charms all around the door and that side of the grounds, but of course he once again found too many spells interfering with each other. Most were the ones the students learned in Herbology and Care for Magical Creatures, but of course students had come here to practise all sorts of spells probably preparing for exams while also enjoying good weather. James had often done it himself.

Right now the practise was quite a nuisance, though, since practising students had a tendency to repeat the same spell over and over again and thus strengthen its signature. The practised spells would show up much more clearly than any spells cast only once for an actual purpose.

Had the children been disillusioned and led into the forest perhaps? Or had they portkeyed out of the anti-apparition wards?

The Ministry would have kept a record if so many people had flooed out of the institute at once, especially if they had left the country. Even if they had portkeyed to a less suspicious departure point the sheer number of floo jumps should have drawn an investigation.

Unless ... What if they had portkeyed to some safe-house where they could stay for several weeks flooing out in groups of two to four at a time and into different countries?

If one chose popular holiday locations that would not draw any notice. In fact, if one left from a popular sightseeing location in England one could even send off larger groups at once and it would be interpreted as foreign tourists returning home after a visit to England.

James decided to visit the floo office next if he found nothing to disprove that theory here. After that he'd try to track down Lily. If he made her angry enough maybe she'd forget to watch her tongue and tell him where Harry was hidden ... always assuming that she did indeed know and would be any easier to find than the stupid boy.

"Do you think he's dead, Luna?" he heard a passing girl ask her friend.

"No, he isn't," replied the other shaking her head with a surprising amount of conviction. "But they will kill him unless Harry rescues us all soon. There'll be no more Quibblers for us either way."

"But why isn't there a new issue if he is still alive?" the first girl asked and James almost laughed at the realisation that these children were actually worried about an idiot like Xenophilius Lovegood and his nonsense spreading magazine.

But after a moment James reconsidered. They looked old enough to know that it was all rot and be amused by it and wasn't it possible that with the way the wizarding world was going, Snivellus Snape headmaster of the institute they were living in and the Carrows punishing every little infraction the Quibbler had been the last source of entertainment left to them that could distract them from worries about disappearances, torture and war news?

"They have arrested him," Luna reported with that same conviction and suddenly James realised what he was hearing.

A seeer! The rarest and most precious of magical gifts!

This was even better for finding people than poor, dead Sirius' dog nose had been and the certainty indicated that she was in control of her visions enough to look for a particular person.

"You there!" he shouted running after the girls. "Luna?"

She stopped and looked at him. "Go tell the headmaster, Ginevra. We need him."

"I am Auror Potter, Harry Potterâ€™s father," he introduced himself.

"I know," Luna stated. "But that's not why you are looking for him."

"What? Of course it is!"

"No, it isn't. You wouldn't be looking if he hadn't told you to. You shouldn't spend this much time with them. You are not as strong as the headmaster is. With you pretence becomes reality and then you no longer know which side you are on."

"I ... But of course I know which side I am on!" James replied more exasperated with the change of topic than aware what she was talking about. He didn't have time to consider childish nonsense now. "I am worried about my son's disappearance and want to find him so I can make sure he is alright and bring him back here where he belongs."

But Luna shook her head vehemently. "If you find him he will die. And he is my friend's friend so I won't help you. I want him to live."

She refused to help an Auror investigation? Well, they'd just have to see about that.

James grabbed her by the collar and lifted her up to look her straight in the eyes. She was a bit too old to hold like that for long, but he could always change his grip or cast a floating spell on her.

"I am an Auror and I have ordered you to tell me where Harry is!"

"You have not," Luna said. "You were going to, but you forgot."

James shook her. "Where is he?"

"Where he has to stay for now," Luna replied sounding not in the least scared.

"Tell me where Harry is at once or feel the cruciatus!" he threatened.

"You should think of a better threat," Luna commented. "Professor Carrow uses that one all the time and he goes through with it. You haven't got the heart."

"Oh, don't I?" James yelled dropping her and drawing his wand. "Cru ..."

"Expelliamus! Why really, Auror Potter," Severus Snape had arrived. "What pray has this child done to warrant such treatment from an upstanding member of society like you?"

"She refuses to tell me where Harry is!" James shouted. "She is a seeer and she knows, but she refuses to tell me."

"Seeer?" Professor Snape repeated as if it were the most ridiculous nonsense he'd ever heard. "That is Luna Lovegood, Potter, Xenophilius Lovegood's daughter. At best she has inherited a vivid imagination. So, if you would unhand her and leave the institute ground now. You are disrupting the proper upbringing of the children. Again."


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 21: The Tale of the Three Brothers

Luna stood next to the headmaster and watched Auror Potter walk away.

"He has the stone, you know," she remarked when the Auror was out of sight.

"What stone?" the headmaster demanded.

"The one Professor Dumbledore left Harry. Harry never got it and he will need it in the end."

"Well, then he will have to get it from his father."

"But his father will hand him over to the Dark Lord if they tell him to and he has his wand, too. He needs your wand, though."

"Does he now?" Professor Snape said. "Anything else?"

"Only the cloak," Luna said. "But he sent that to his mother. That won't be a problem. Not if you find the diadem in time in any case."

"The diadem? Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem?"

Luna nodded, turned and walked away apparently convinced that she had done her duty and told him all he needed to know. Perhaps she had, though Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem would be even harder to get to than Helga Hufflepuff's cup and he was still working on that one.

At least thanks to Potter's assistance Slytherin's locket had been easy and Albus had already taken care of the diary and the ring.

For a moment Severus considered just going after the snake next, but that would be foolish. Lord Voldemort might miss the destruction of his hidden horcruxes, but he was sure to notice if his pet died or disappeared. Nagini's death would have to come last and just before Voldemort's own.

And that meant that his next move would have to be to get the stone without giving James Potter the impression that he knew where Harry was or expected to meet him at any time.

It was quite a challenge after Severus had only just chased him off the grounds, but then Severus had met many a seemingly impossible task in the past. This one was hardly impossible.

He let a day pass, made sure that James was busy with work at the Ministry via Phineas Nigellus' useful portrait and apparated to Potter's home in Kent.

As expected Narcissa was there, a tricky situation since Severus wasn't sure which side, if any, she really was on or believed to be on. She was a fellow Slytherin, though, and she didn't dislike him as her husband did.

"It has come to my attention that Albus Dumbledore left Harry Potter a little memento," he informed her when she asked him what he wanted. "Since the boy himself had already disappeared when it was to be sent to him I expect that it has been delivered here?"

"What ... Oh, you mean that snitch," Narcissa said. "It's quite bizarre: a dead snitch, used, spent and ready to be discarded, but no, the old fool had to make a collector's item of it."

A snitch? But what of the stone Luna had mentioned?

"Are you sure that's all there is? He didn't send anything else?"

Narcissa shook her head.

"Just the snitch. I'd throw it away, but it doesn't belong to me and James ... Well, you know how he adored the old man despite all his eccentricity."

"Quite so," Severus agreed. "Would you let me have a look at it, though? I'd like to make sure that there isn't more to that snitch than meets the eye."

Narcissa proved to be surprisingly willing to break into her husband's desk.

Severus chose not to comment and accepted the snitch in silence to have a close look at it.

"Not quite that simple a case after all," he remarked when he saw the close and the inscription. "It seems to have been fashioned into a little box."

"It doesn't open, though," Narcissa told him with a careless shrug. "The Ministry had it examined by all the experts in its department of mysteries, I believe, and nobody could make it work."

"A challenge then," Severus stated. "Would you allow me to take this back home with me to see whether I can solve it in my spare time? I did know Dumbledore better than most, I believe. In any case I have some experience with predicting his bizzarre ideas that the Ministry does not."

"It belongs to little Harry," Narcissa pointed out.

"And I will hand it over to him at the first opportunity when he turns up again. It doesnâ€™t look like that will be anytime soon, however, and it is quite possible that Albus Dumbledore hid some relevant clue inside the box. The sooner it is found the better for us all."

Narcissa bowed her head in quiescence and Severus pocketed the snitch hoping that the stone Harry needed was inside it.

Now, back to the problem of getting the cup at Gringotts and then to find the long lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.

Why couldn't his life ever be easy?


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 22: The Deathly Hallows

Professor Carrow was on a rampage again. Draco could hear him curse and shout all the way down the corridor.

What he couldn't hear were the curses he was casting at his latest victim.

Part of Draco itched to turn his head, maybe even sneak to the door and take a peek to see who the unlucky student - or could it be a house-elf again? Please let it be a house-elf! - was.

Gregory actually did turn around and now Seamus was starting to get up ...

"Have you finished transfiguring your hedgehog, Seamus?" Professor McGonagall demanded sharply. "And you, Gregory?"

Both boys hastily turned back to their work and Draco tapped his own hedgehog with his wand gently. He wasn't actually trying to transfigure the little fellow, though. That would have been rather difficult because he'd already forgotten what the wand movement for it was ... or in fact what he was meant to turn the hedgehog into. All he could think of was Professor Carrow and his anger and the things he did to students when he was in a mood like this. He'd caught Luna and Ginevra at some silly prank a few weeks ago and Ginevra still grew very still and started to tremble whenever the incident was mentioned even though Luna had told them that in all likelihood she would never be caught by him again.

Still Neville had told Draco that Ginevra was working on some sort of flight plan by which they'd leave the dormitories and stop attending classes, but still be at the institute to fight.

Draco didn't know what to make of it. It didn't make any sense the way Neville had presented it in any case and he was wondering whether the cruciatus had affected Ginevra's brain. Neville believed in the plan's success, though, and wanted Draco to join them.

Draco twirled his wand in his hand and tried to imagine that it sounded perfectly reasonable and executable.

Did he want to escape the Carrows badly enough to give up his classes and the chance to get NEWTs? Was he really that afraid?

There was a banging sound right behind him and Draco's heart almost stopped. He sat frozen at his desk imagining Professor Carrow standing behind him.

Why wasn't he saying anything? It had to have been him that slammed the door shut, didn't it?

Could it be? Dared he hope that the Professor had closed the door from the outside rather than entered? But why? He was the one that had insisted that the Professors kept them open so he and his sister could hear what they were teaching the students.

Draco wished that Ginevra's plan was reasonable and that they had all already gone. Then he wouldn't be sitting here and Professor Carrow wouldn't be standing behind him raising his wand and ...

"This is Transfigurations, not Charms, Parvati," Professor McGonagall snapped. "You are supposed to transfigure your hedgehog, not levitate your desk and for Merlin's sake not drop it! The noise upsets the hedgehogs and disrupts your classmates' concentration."

"Sorry Professor ... I just ... My wand must have slipped."

It had just been Parvati?

Draco almost sighed aloud with relief. Maybe he should leave the institute. He'd inherit quite a large amount of money from Lucius not to mention the manor to live in. He ought to get by on that even if whatever job he could find on his OWLs alone didn't pay well.

But he wanted to be an Auror like his father. That career would be impossible without the right NEWTs and he only had to finish the year to take them.

Surely he could manage to put up with the Carrows for one year? All he'd have to do was keep his head down and don't do anything to draw their notice. He'd focus on his studying and staying far away from Professor Carrow when he was in a mood like this. Luckily he didn't have to face either Carrow in any of his classes so it ought to be feasible.

If only the Muggleborns were still here. Then there'd be a lot more students to disappear among. For a moment he actually hoped that his father's investigation would find them and bring them back, but then he remembered what he'd heard about the Muggleborn registration. Most likely the Muggleborns were much better off where they were and Draco began to wish that he were with them instead.

Wouldn't it be great to live at Beauxbattons or Durmstrang? He tried to imagine it from the descriptions the triwizard candidates from those institutes had given them.

But perhaps they had been sent to a completely different institute in a country Draco had never heard of. How different might those be?

The bell rang quite unexpectedly and Professor McGonagall ordered them to hand in their frogs. Draco rather sheepishly returned the hedgehog to her and had to suffer through a short lecture on what happened to students who didn't put enough effort into their NEWTs classes.

The Professor was just about to assign him a make-up essay when Parvati rushed back into the classroom. This was quite unusual. Usually she was the first to leave and if she forgot something she'd ask for it in the next Transfigurations lesson.

"Professor!" Parvati gasped. "There's a first or second year lying on the floor in the corridor and she isn't moving!"

Professor McGonagall forgot all about Draco's hedgehog and essay as she rushed to conjure a stretcher and levitate the little victim to the hospital wing.

It was Mafalda, Draco remembered as he stared after them, Harry's little sister. And he was Harry's brother. Didn't that sort of make her his sister as well? But then what in the world could he do to protect anyone from Professor Carrow?


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 23: Malfoy Manor

It was pure luck that the worst bout of headache overcame Harry at dinner one day and he was therefore able to go straight to bed and didn't have to tell any Professor about it. A Professor would surely have sent him to the hospital wing and Harry doubted that he could have faked being fine well enough to convince the nurse that the Professor was merely being over-cautious due to Harry's recent headache problems.

He'd meant to spend the evening studying some more Chemistry, but it was no use when his scar felt like it was about to split and so he just lay down any closed his eyes.

As he had suspected it was another vision. You-Know-Who was once again in a foreign country. Or perhaps he was still in the same one. Harry didn't know the place, but You-Know-Who seemed to be quite sure where he was going.

His destination turned out to be a very old and imposing building with thick stone walls, similar to Hogwarts, but somehow a lot less friendly and welcoming. This place, Harry felt, was cold and full of despair, but You-Know-Who didn't care.

He passed the foreign inscription above the gate without a second glance much to Harry's disappointment as Harry himself didn't even recognise the language, but felt somehow confident that You-Know-Who knew it well enough to decipher the writing. If he'd stopped to read those words, Harry would have known what they meant.

You-Know-Who hadn't come to do any sight-seeing, though. He almost absent-mindedly killed a few guards and then broke into the cell of a rather unimposing looking old man.

For an instant Harry felt disappointed. You-Know-Who had expected someone much more impressive. This was supposed to be the darkest wizard of all time? This?

Then Gellert Grindelwald looked into the eyes of his dreaded visitor and laughed. He was laughing at him! Laughing at the idea that the mighty Voldemort might kill him with a single wave of his wand, laughing at the very thought of fleeing from death.

He laughed even harder when Harry told him what he'd come after.

"And is that all you are after, then?" Grindelwald asked. "Your own invincibility? Is that your only goal? What have dark wizards come to these days? At least back in my day we had ideals!"

"Ideals you failed to achieve because you were defeated," Harry pointed out to him. "I will not be defeated. Give me the invincible wand!"

This sent Grindelwald into a third fit of laughter which rendered him unable to reply for quite a while.

"I do not have it," he answered once he had recovered. "I never did. Did you expect them to allow me to keep a wand in here? And how do you think it was that Albus beat me if my wand is supposed to make its user invincible? Go home, Voldemort, you pathetic excuse for a dark wizard. Go home and figure out what you seized power for."

Harry felt another flare of anger and almost cast the killing curse, but managed to rein himself in just in time. If he killed Grindelwald before the old relic told him he'd never have the wand and without it he couldn't become the master of death. Death would catch up with him someday and then all he'd done would be in vain.

He could not let that happen. He would not die!

"Where is it then?" he demanded. "Here in Nurmengard?Where do they keep their prisoners' wands?"

Grindelwald laughed again, but less vehemently now.

"I do not know, but I had no wand they could take off me. I'd lost it long before they brought me here. Seek the one who defeated me if you must have that old stick."

"Dumbledore?" His own word sliced seething hot through Harry's own body. It felt as if he were on fire.

"Albus," Grindelwald said with a sadness and longing in his voice that Harry couldn't understand. "Still Albus after all these years."

"Dumbledore is dead," Harry stated coldly raising his wand. Lucius' wand it was, not his old phoenix feather one and it didn't react nearly as well to him, but it would serve well enough to kill this pathetic old man.

Grindelwald was looking out the window, though, his face a still mask.

He should be looking at Harry! He should be staring at him in dread, should be on his knees begging for his life.

"Did you kill him?"

"Yes," Harry lied feeling a strange satisfaction at the words.

"Yet you do not have his wand," Grindelwald stated. "That is not it."

"What do you care whether it is Albus Dumbledore's wand that kills you or mine ... Or as it happens that of Lucius Malfoy," Harry hissed.

"Not much, that's true. It would have been a nice touch, that is all. Still, I shall die by the same hand that slew Albus and that is quite enough. Go ahead. What are you waiting for?"

"I lied. I didn't kill Dumbledore. I merely ordered his death," Harry said feeling a moment of satisfaction at admitting the truth.

But for some reason Grindelwald, too, looked satisfied.

"And thus you cannot own it. You never will."

"Avada ..."

"Go to hell!"

"Kedavra!"

Gellert Grindelwald died with that smile still on his lips.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 24: The Wandmaker

When Lord Voldemort finally figured out what Gellert Grindelwald had meant he was both surprised and disgusted at himself. It was all so very obvious. Of course anyone who left an invincible wand behind or handed it over to another would have to be a perfect fool and Albus Dumbledore had been many things, but his ridiculous clothing and silly passwords notwithstanding, never a fool.

To be sure the old man had let a lot of chances slip by, but Voldemort himself was no fool either. He could see that it had been an excess of caution not inability to see the possibilities that had prevented Dumbledore from seizing power.

For most of his career Cornelius Fudge, that old weakling, had been quite willing to be guided by Dumbledore and being the shadow king behind the throne must have suited Dumbledore just as well as it suited Voldemort right now. It had allowed him to retain his power base at Hogwarts Institute and with it the chance to shape and indoctrinate the minds of the next generation of wizards. If Dumbledore had become Minister himself he'd have had to give up his old position and in order to establish himself as a dictator that held both positions he would have had to seize power by force openly.

Gellert Grindelwald had of course served him as an excellent example of the results of a failed armed takeover.

When the confrontation between Fudge and Dumbledore had come it had been predictably vehement, short and final. Fudge never had been a worthy opponent for any of his contenders.

Rufus Scrimegour must have come as as much of a surprise to Dumbledore as he had to Voldemort, though. The man had had too strong a personality to be controlled by either of them and had had to be taken out of the game by an application of force.

It still puzzled Voldemort that Dumbledore hadn't arranged Scrimegour's assassination right away, but then perhaps Dumbledore had counted on Voldemort to do it and spare him the effort. He obviously hadn't predicted that Voldemort would eliminate him first. A deadly mistake that still pleased Voldemort despite the trouble it was causing him now.

Gellert Grindelwald had stolen the elder wand. Albus Dumbledore had somehow or other defeated Gellert Grindelwald despite it. Voldemort would have to find out how despite the only two men he was sure had known being dead, and safeguard against the trick once he had possession of the wand, but for now that would have to wait. He didn't know what witnesses to the final confrontation of Dumbledore and Grindelwald were still alive and he had to track down the wand itself before one of his rivals got hold of it.

Albus Dumbledore would of course have kept the wand after Grindelwald's fall and used it. Eventually he himself had fallen at the hands of Severus Snape, though.

Voldemort actually felt a moment of dread at the thought that Snape might be in possession of the elder wand now. The Potions Master and Master Spy didn't have quite the level of power and not nearly the amount of experience in the game that Dumbledore had had, but he was a lot less predictable, more daring and ruthless. He could definitely compete with Scrimegour for strength of personality, had more extensive knowledge of the dark arts and had had ample opportunity to study both Voldemort himself and Dumbledore up close and learn from them.

And Voldemort himself had handed him Dumbledore's old power base of Hogwarts! Of course he wasn't as entrenched there as the old man had been and the Carrows were there to supervise him, but the first was merely a matter of time and the loyalty of the Carrows was probably negotiable.

If Snape, armed with the elder wand, decided to abandon Voldemort's cause and set out for himself ...

But Severus was still carrying his old wand. Voldemort knew it well by sight and was sure that he'd have noticed if he'd suddenly acquired a new one.

Only a fool would knowingly leave the invincible wand behind, but until Grindelwald had told him even Voldemort himself hadn't ever suspected that Albus Dumbledore might be in possession of the elder wand. There never had been even the slightest rumour that Dumbledore's wand was at all special. Everybody had just assumed that the wizard himself was so powerful that the few opponents that had taken him on personally had all failed.

"A very clever way to hide the source of your power and thus protect yourself against whatever trick it was you used on Grindelwald," Voldemort muttered to himself.

So like himself Snape had failed to attach any importance to Dumbledore's wand and preferred to continue to use his old accustomed one over that of a stranger.

What then had become of the wand after Snape had passed it by? The easiest way to find out would be to ask Snape, but that would also draw his attention to it. He could not afford to arouse Snape's suspicions so Voldemort set Dolores Umbridge to track down Dumbledore's will instead.

The result was incredible: Dumbledore had actually decreed that his wand should be buried with him!

Now that the old man was gone it was quite easy for a wizard of Voldemort's power to sneak onto the Hogwarts grounds at night and force his way into the tomb without anyone being the wiser. All he had to do was apparate well outside the wards and make no attempts to enter the castle itself.

Nevertheless it surprised him that he did indeed find the wand still there in the decaying body's hand. A quick check proved that it was indeed a functional wand of elder wood and several hundred years old. It did not appear to be a fake.

He'd have to try it out before he returned Lucius Malfoy's wand, though.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 25: Shell Cottage

Lily Evans Prewett really had thought that she had escaped the magical world without a trace. Or perhaps she'd assumed that she and her squib husband were too insignificant to be followed. All her illusions of safety died however when she returned home from work one evening and found Severus Snape in her flat.

"You!" she exclaimed more frightened than outraged at that first moment.

"I really didn't think it wise to wait outside where the Muggles could see me," he explained entirely too calmly for her taste. "Not the way I am dressed."

"How did you find us?" That was the biggest concern right now. If she could escape once more she did not want to make the same mistake again.

"I will always find you."

Somehow it didn't sound like the threat it ought to be. They had been close friends at Hogwarts Institute so very long ago. Could it be that despite their terrible final argument he still felt kindly towards her after all this time?

"What do you want?"

"To save us all."

She blinked at him in confusion. The Severus she knew from her childhood had only ever cared to save himself. Granted, he'd been under almost constant attack by bullies and Lily and their other friends had been in no worse danger than that of being the next victim of one of James' practical jokes. She'd been quite good at defending herself and others against those ... well, most of the time.

"Save whom from what?"

"Save all our kind - the wizards and witches of Britain - from a regime to rival Grindelwald's."

"That is a most laudable goal," Lily had to admit. "But what does it have to do with me? I'm Muggleborn, Severus. My husband is a squib, totally unable to defend himself. I cannot expose him to any risk! His only hope is in us staying hidden and looking irrelevant."

"And what about all the other Muggleborns and squibs? What about those that didn't get away in time? What about those not yet old enough to get away?"

"The Hogwarts children have been sent to safety and those at the lower institutes all have at least one magical parent."

"Except for those who were transferred straight to Azkaban this year," Severus hissed. "And those that will be next year and the year after that. Every year that the Dark Lord remains in power, Lily. What of the centaurs and the goblins and the house-elves? The house-elves cannot even leave the houses they serve without their masters' orders."

"But I ... I cannot risk endangering Claudius," Lily tried to explain with tears in her eyes. "Surely there must be somebody else. Surely ..."

"And what of the wizardborn children forced to grow up in a world like this?" Severus continued mercilessly. She knew he would only stop if she agreed to do what he wanted, but oh ... "Did you know that only a few days ago Amycus Carrow put your own daughter under cruciatus until she passed out? He found her in a corridor during class time, you see. That's reason enough for Amycus. Have you ever seen her? Little Mafalda is such a sweet, tiny little thing. She's a very happy child usually ... or at least she was last year, always laughing and chatting with her fellow little Hufflepuffs. But of course not now that she's lying alone in a much too big white bed in the hospital wing recovering from the cruciatus ..."

"Alright!" she shouted to drown out his words and the pictures they created in her head. "What do you want me to do?"

"We need Harry," Severus said. "Only he can defeat the Dark Lord."

"Harry?" she gasped. "No, not Harry! Please, not Harry!"

She'd imagined that he wanted her to provide shelter for other refugees, help them disappear from the magical and integrate into the Muggle world, perhaps even wanted her to fight herself. She'd never expected him to demand that she risk her other child as well as poor little Mafalda.

"He is our only hope, Lily. We must have him in the battle."

She cried and pleaded, but of course that could not change the facts of that horrible prophecy. Why, oh why had it had to be her son? Why couldn't You-Know-Who have chosen the Longbottom child?

"Where is your Gryffindor courage, Lily?" Severus demanded. "Isn't it the duty of every Gryffindor to stand up and fight for what is right? Have you forgotten that Harry, too, is a Gryffindor? Or would you leave the fighting to the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs and go hide in a corner?"

"Very well," she sobbed. "I'll see to it that Harry is there at the final battle. But promise me that you will not use him before that. Just one battle."

"I won't," Severus promised. "And I will see to it that he has all the weapons he needs."

"Weapons?"

To his surprise he held out a dead snitch to her.

"Albus left this to him. I have retrieved it from James, but it appears that only Harry himself can open it. So it would be best if you pass it on to him as soon as possible. He might need time to figure it out. Unfortunately he has never had a particularly fast mind. Albus put it down to some Muggle condition called Hospitalism, but personally I believe that it is his father's genes."

That made her laugh and she was able to accept the snitch with a semblance of resolve and dignity she hoped was more worthy of a Gryffindor than her earlier tears.

"He will also need his father's invisibility cloak," Severus added. "I believe that you are already in possession of that?"

She nodded.

"I'll make sure he gets them both," she promised. "But is that all? I can see how the cloak can protect him, but is he really to kill You-Know-Who, the most powerful wizard alive, with a dead snitch?"

"There is one more weapon," Severus said. "But I cannot give it to you yet. Get Harry back into the country without arousing the Dark Lord's notice and let me see to the third weapon."

He thought that Harry had been taken out of the country? That came as a surprise, but she did her best to hide it. It would be safer for the other hidden children if nobody in the wizarding world knew where they were, not even those on their side. Lily did care enough for their safety to keep that secret.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 26: Gringotts

Lily had been one thing, but Severus hesitated for quite a while before giving in to the necessity of involving Bill Weasley in his plans.

Like most former Gryffindor students Bill disliked him, but also respected him and he did know him as a fellow Order member, but he had been out of the institute for more years than he had been in it by now and had spent all that time working for Gringotts. His loyalty to the bank and Goblins had to be stronger than that to the institute.

Still Bill did want the Dark Lord destroyed just as much as the rest of them did and Severus saw no way to accomplish it without someone who knew the Gringotts goblins.

For a moment Severus even wished that Quirrel were still alive to spare him the risk of confiding in Weasley, but on second thought Bill was probably more trustworthy than Quirinus. At least he was a Gryffindor and those usually announced their moral decisions and intentions loudly enough for all to hear. If Bill would betray him, at least he'd be forewarned. You never knew with Ravenclaws.

Bill certainly seemed happy enough to see him and even happier to hear that he knew what Albus' last plans had been and was determined to complete them.

"There is a problem, however," Severus warned him.

"Little Harry's disappearance?" Bill guessed. "Ron has told me nothing of any use. I could try exerting some pressure on him, of course ..."

"The boy knows nothing," Severus cut him off. "He was in class at the time. Harry was not. But that isn't the problem I am here about. I ... can put my hand on someone that I believe does know where the boy is when I need to. Right now it would only endanger Harry needlessly, though. There are several other things we must do before we can use him."

"What things?"

Severus considered for a moment. How much would it be wise to give away?

"There are several items that we need to find before it will be possible to attack the Dark Lord. Until we have them all he is immortal."

Bill stared at him.

"You want me to collect potions ingredients for you?"

Potions never had been a particular strength of Bill, though he had never been worse than average at it either, Severus remembered. Quite possibly Herbology had been his actual weakest subject judging from this reaction then.

"Did I say anything about Potions, Bill?" he asked just as he would a student trying to avoid a question by talking about another topic entirely.

"But then what?"

"Do you know what horcruxes are?"

"Horcruxes?"

Obviously not.

"They are items of the very darkest of dark magic that store a piece of their creator's soul. As long as the horcrux remains whole the piece of soul cannot pass on and thus binds the dark wizard to this world. That is how the Dark Lord avoided death sixteen years ago and was eventually able to return in a new body. He has created several of these horcruxes, the first wizard known to history to have more than one horcrux. Before Harry can kill him we must destroy them all."

"Do you have any detailed instructions on the curse?" Bill asked. "I have broken entirely unknown curses before, of course, but there is quite a risk in experimenting with dark magic."

"I do not need your help breaking the curses," Severus interrupted him once again. "I understand your professional curiosity, but there is a reason why even you have never heard of this spell before. This art is truly evil and entirely unnatural, yet the temptation of immortality is strong for many foolish wizards and the fewer people know its secrets the less the likelihood that another Dark Lord will get hold of them. You are, I believe, not able to occlude all attempts of legilimency completely?"

Bill shook his head ruefully.

"Then I have already told you more than is entirely safe for our plans."

Bill nodded.

"But if you do not need me to break the curses, what do you want my help with?" he asked.

"Something much more ... delicate. One of the horcruxes is hidden in a high security vault at Gringotts. I need hardly add, I believe, that the owners of that vault are inimical to our cause and even I cannot convince them to grant me access."

Bill gaped at him. "You want me to break into a high security vault? That is impossible. Only a Gringotts goblin can open them at all."

Severus shook his head.

"Hardly that. I intend to have a Gringotts goblin steal the horcrux ... under magical coercion, but as you know such spells aren't entirely fail-proof. What I need you to do is tell me the right goblin for the task."

Bill seemed to consider this.

"One that already has legitimate business both with me and the high security vaults so we can get at him and to the vault without arousing suspicion?"

That was interesting. Severus had not expected Bill to want to take such an active part in the task, nor had he considered the possibility of a division of tasks among the Gringotts employees.

"Most of all I was thinking of one that will be easy to influence to steal from his employer and hand the object over to a wizard ... possibly in exchange for gain, though I do not have much that I could trade him. I can however come up with a perfectly innocent reason to visit the high security vault Albus once used to store the philosopher's stone."

Bill pondered a little more.

"Would you have to keep the horcrux or merely to break the curse?" he asked finally. "Because I might just have had an almost entirely legal idea that will not require any coercion."


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 27: The Final Hiding Place

Bill Weasley and Severus Snape entered Gringotts together early on Saturday morning. The wizards on guard at the entrance looked surprised as they ran their probity probes over them, but the headmaster merely nodded coldly at them and there was nothing to be detected on him.

"Well, get it over with, Weasley," Snape snapped as soon as he was done. "I'm a very busy wizard and haven't got all day."

"Security mustn't be rushed, Professor," Bill Weasley replied apologetically "Neither the goblins nor our customers would like it. We have quite a number of irreplaceable treasures in our safekeeping after all."

"Your treasures do not concern me, Weasley. My business is Hogwarts and the living treasures within its walls. I do not like to be absent from them for too long. One never knows what dangerous mischief children will come up with next."

"Of course, Professor," Bill said placatingly as he stepped through the door. "Allow me to take you straight to the safety goblin on duty, then. That should speed matters up considerably."

He led Snape past the usual customer counters into a small office.

"This is where safety checks are performed," he explained. "The goblins working here are the most skilled at curse detection. Normally they are the ones to call in us curse-breakers And you can see for yourself how well equipped they are with curse detection devices. That is why it seems so incredible to me that a cursed object should have slipped by us. Ah, good morning Grapplefoot."

"Ah, but I remember that Professor Dumbledore on more than one occasion sent people to deposit objects directly in the Hogwarts vault. Those will hardly have gone through this office. The Professor himself could be trusted to recognise a cursed object, of course, but the half-giant Hagrid was his favourite errand boy and he never even sat his OWLs. He couldn't have recognised a dark curse if he'd thought to look for it, which I doubt ever occurred to him. He was much too naive for his own good."

"Headmaster Snape has become aware of a possible safety issue that he believes we should check up on most urgently, Grapplefoot," Bill explained. "It appears that a cursed object may have gotten into a high security vault."

"It has been brought to our attention that there allegedly is a dark spell on the cup of Hufflepuff," Severus elaborated. "And that it is suspected of being likely to react very badly if brought into contact with certain other kinds of magic. Considering the number of other magical objects stored here such a spell must of course be broken most urgently. I hope you will forgive me for borrowing Mr. Weasley for the purpose. Hogwarts itself does not employ curse-breakers and obtaining one through Ministry channels takes weeks during which such a curse would continue to threaten the lives of the children under my care. Contrary to our original expectations, however, the cup could not be found anywhere in Hogwarts. The only reasonable explanation I can think of is that one of my predecessors must have stored it in the high security vault here and while there are no children in danger here the risk that it might get in contact with other magic might be even higher and it is no less likely to kill adult wizards or goblins if they do not know what they are dealing with. So, if you could let Mr. Weasley and myself into the vault it should not take us long to check the object and break the curse if it does exist."

"And nobody but the three of us need ever find out that something that dangerous got past Gringotts' security," Bill added significantly. "You know the director of security hasn't been in the best of moods since they forced those wizard guards on him. Not that he's ever liked working with wizards but lately ..."

Grapplefoot shuddered noticeably. He'd had an encounter with that notoriously irascible old goblin less than a week ago and the last thing he wanted was to be brought to his attention again this soon.

He led the two wizards down himself just to make absolutely sure that no other goblin heard of the matter and reported it to the director and when it turned out that the cup was nowhere to be found in the vault he breathed a deep, long sigh of relief.

That feeling was very short-lived however as the wizards could think of only one explanation for the cup's absence from both vault and institute.

"It must have been stolen," Snape hissed.

"A dangerous cursed object!" Bill exclaimed in alarm. "Please say it isn't so. Surely there must be some other place it could be? Some other vault? Some hidden nook that we overlooked at the institute? Just imagine if the thief has sold it to a clueless Squib or Muggle!"

"Surely he'd be more likely to sell it to another wizard, preferably a former Hufflepuff," Grapplefoot suggested hoping desperately that it had been stolen at Hogwarts and not in the bank.

"A Hufflepuff would be highly unlikely to buy stolen goods," Snape objected. "They are the most honest of all the houses. Of course a less moral collector from another house is a possibility, but since the cup is made of gold it would be very valuable on the Muggle market as well and the thief's risk of being caught would be much lower."

"If it is that valuable," Bill mused. "Perhaps the purchaser has put it in his vault here. Then Gringotts would still be in danger."

"We could check the inventory," Grapplefoot suggested. "Then we'll be sure. A golden cup, you say? Pure gold?"

Professor Snape gave him a description and Bill Weasley was kind enough to distract the bookkeeper while Grapplefoot hastily scanned the lists.

The goblin was shaking all over when he and the wizards met up again in his office.

"It is in the Lestrange vault," he whispered. "Oh emeralds! Bellatrix Black Lestrange will be so furious when she hears that we have allowed a dangerous curse to get into her vault and if she only so much as suspects that we might accuse her of theft ..."

"And just think of how furious she'll be if the curse is triggered inside her vault and damages her other treasures," Bill said with a shudder. "According to rumour the Lestranges have quite a large collection of magical objects of all kinds. The cup could hardly be in a more dangerous place."

"Do we have to wait for Bellatrix Black Lestrange's arrival?" Professor Snape asked. "I need to get back to the institute by lunchtime and she is quite a busy witch. Surely she won't object to us entering her vault to remove such a dangerous curse just because we only tell her after the fact."

"Must we tell her at all then?" Grapplefoot ventured and they soon agreed that there was no need to inform Bellatrix as long as they managed to destroy the curse before it damaged anything.

The operation took quite a bit longer than they anticipated, though. There was a thieves' curse on the vault that Bill had to break before they could touch anything and then it took them even longer to locate the cup amid all the other treasures.

"We'd best take it back to the office so we can use the curse detectors," Grapplefoot decided when they finally had it. "We shouldn't meddle with it until we are absolutely sure what we are dealing with."

It would cost them more time and force them to make another trip down to return the cup and if Bellatrix Black Lestrange chose to visit her vault in the meantime and noticed that the cup was missing, or more likely noticed that the thieves' curse had been broken, she'd probably crucio them all, but the idea of the curse being triggered in her vault and with them right there as it went off was even worse.

So they took the cup to the office and subjected it to a thorough examination until there was a sudden flash and an evil red eye appeared swimming in the cup.

Grapplefoot yelped and jumped back in dread and horror. "Emeralds, it is sentient!"

Bill Weasley, one of the most daring curse-breakers Grapplefoot knew, too, paled and drew back. "It is pure evil and malice!"

"Ah," said Severus Snape. "Now I recognise it. We are very lucky we are at Gringotts. Any goblin-forged weapon should be able to destroy it."

With trembling fingers Grapplefoot handed the headmaster a magnificent dagger and indeed the horrible eye disappeared with a feral shriek that brought goblins running from every part of the bank to see what had happened.

"Nothing to worry about," Professor Snape informed the would-be spectators. "Just a cursed object somebody sent a Hogwarts student as an ill-considered joke. Mr. Weasley has just broken the curse."

The cup, too, was broken, but if one didn't look too closely one would hardly see the tiny crack at the bottom and even Professor Snape admitted that he wasn't looking forward to explaining it to Bellatrix Black Lestrange ... or liked the idea of accusing her of theft and demanding the cup back. So the three conspirators quietly returned the cup to the Lestrange vault, reset the thieves' spell and pretended that nothing had happened.


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 28: The Missing Mirror

Harry was delighted when he heard that they were to have a real family meeting on the weekend. He wasn't quite sure what the occasion was, but it was to include not only him, his mother and father, which now that he was a Prewett was of course Claudius, but also his Aunt Petunia, his Uncle Vernon and Dursley. He couldn't wait to finally see his aunt and uncle and could barely force himself to pay attention in class that Friday.

When he did see them, though, he felt a little disappointed at first. They looked like so very ordinary people. Aunt Petunia was very tall and thin, but hardly what Harry would have called beautiful and Uncle Vernon was fat and balding, not at all imposing or cool.

They both said they were very happy to see him, though, and Uncle Vernon had brought a Muggle tool especially so Harry could see it.

"Not that Dudley can't have a look as well, if he likes to," he explained to Harry. "But he has seen them before. One of the first things he asked us when he met us was what our company produces, so I thought you probably will want to know, too, eh?"

It hadn't occurred to Harry before, but now that he saw it he was indeed very interested. Wizards used very few Muggle tools and never had the latest models.

"So this is a modern drill?" he asked weighing it carefully in his hand and trying to figure out how one was supposed to hold it.

"Don't activate it here at the table, Harry," Claudius reminded him. "The restaurant staff wouldn't be happy if you accidentally drilled a hole into their furniture."

"I don't even know how to activate it," Harry assured him.

"That big button there does it," Uncle Vernon explained. "I did bring a block of wood to try it on, but that's in the hovercar. Drilling is not something one should do at a restaurant ... unless one is making renovations, of course."

"Of course," Harry agreed readily. "I never would have thought of doing it, really!"

"It isn't the very latest model," Uncle Vernon said remembering Harry's earlier question. "And far from the biggest, but it is the one most in demand out of our current models."

"Oh, couldn't you have brought the biggest?" Dursley begged.

"No, I couldn't," Uncle Vernon replied with a chuckle. "It is much too big and heavy to transport in an ordinary hovercar and one needs special training to use it, so you couldn't have tried it out. You'll have more fun with this one."

Harry liked the small drill just fine and was delighted to try it by drilling a few holes into Uncle Vernon's block of wood after lunch.

Uncle Vernon explained the many different uses drills could be put to and how versatile and productive they were. It was very impressive and Harry spontaneously asked whether he could visit Grunnings some day and see all the other drills.

Uncle Vernon beamed with pride in his company.

"I'm sure we can arrange that. Think you might enjoy working for us, eh boy?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "It'd be great to work that close to you, but I'd like to be a gardener. Does Grunnings have gardeners?"

"Well, not many," Uncle Vernon had to admit. "One is quite sufficient to take care of the little bits of green on the company grounds and the current one is ... well, I'd estimate him to be about 35. But we have a new assembly line that is to go into operation soon and we'll have to hire some new workers for that. You'd be producing the latest model there. Then there are two product testers retiring in a few months and we'll probably need an additional one to keep up with the increased production thanks to the new assembly line. That's very responsible and exciting work since you get to try all our models, even the really big ones once you have the necessary training and experience. Or if you are a little less hands-on productively inclined I can most likely get you a position as a secretary. That'd be an entry level position for a job in management like the one I have."

"I'd rather be productive than manage or test," Harry said. "Not that I don't realise how important those jobs are," he added hastily since he didn't want to hurt Uncle Vernon's feelings. "But I love seeing that I am making something, like a gardener gets to see the plants he planted."

"Then the assembly line would be just the thing for you," Aunt Petunia interjected. "You'd be making drills all day."

"And with time and diligence you can become a foreman," Uncle Vernon added. "And supervise and train other employees in your assembly line."

Harry wasn't so sure he liked the idea of supervising others and frowned a little.

"It means helping other employees be more productive," his father explained. "Since by then you would know all the best and fastest ways to do the work."

"And you'll be close to your aunt and uncle so you won't be lonely," his mother added. "That was the very worst part of leaving the secondary institute for me. I didn't know anybody at my new workplace and unlike when switching institutes I was the only one that was new. Everybody else there already knew the others and didn't need to make new friends."

"But you are saying the assembly line starts now," Harry said trying to keep all the arguments in mind and I still have most of my seventh year to go."

"Only a little more than half," Dudley corrected. "And the line isn't starting tomorrow, right Dad?"

"It is true that you can't finish the school year if you want to make use of the opportunity of the new assembly line," his mother admitted. "But Harry, you are having such a hard time catching up to your new school that ... Well, face it, you aren't going to get very good A-levels no matter how hard you try. There just isn't enough time. Nor can you expect to be able to return to your old institute by then, and even if by some miracle you could, you'd be a year behind there as well, so your NEWTs wouldnâ€™t be good either. Your uncle can help you get a perfectly respectable OWL level position at a well established company which is a perfectly natural reason to choose to forego NEWTs that nobody will frown upon. It's not an offer one turns down, Harry, and it is most likely the best you can realistically hope for."

"I'll think about it," Harry promised. "It's just that I was so sure I wanted to be a gardener I never considered drill making before. I need time to think."

"Of course, Harry," Uncle Vernon said. "That's why I made sure to tell you early. The job openings aren't even listed yet, so there is no risk of anyone snatching them away before you can make up your mind."


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 29: The Lost Diadem

Severus only felt pleased with the destruction of the cup for a few minutes, then he remembered that he still had to find two objects that he had no clue where to look for. There was only one chance he had to find them.

"Amycus," he addressed the first teacher he met on his way to his office. "Send Luna Lovegood to my office at once."

"The insane seeer?" Professor Carrows replied seeming quite surprised. "What do you want with her?"

"Just some information concerning her father," Severus said leaving it up to Carrows to decide for himself whether he intended to give information to Luna or demand it of her.

"You weren't at lunch," Carrows stated.

"I was held up elsewhere," Severus stated, then prompted: "Luna? I want to get that over with, if you don't mind."

"There might be a problem with that," Professor Carrows admitted a little nervously.

This surprised Severus. Amycus Carrows was a rather resilient fellow.

"A problem locating one of the students, Amycus?" he demanded dangerously softly.

"Yes, well, you see ... A number of them have disappeared. Alecto thought they'd show up for lunch. They'd be hungry, she said. But they didn't. I suppose they'll be really hungry at dinner, but we donâ€™t know where to look before then."

"A group of Ravenclaws disappeared?" Severus couldn't believe his staff's stupidity sometimes. "If they aren't in the library, try out of the way classrooms. They'll be having a study session."

Or at least that would be the first excuse a group of Ravenclaws would think of if caught out of bounds.

"No, headmaster, not a group of Ravenclaws," Carrows explained. "Students from all four houses, mostly sixth and seventh years."

Interesting, but no reason to give up right away.

"NEWT revision then," he told Carrows. "Possibly including spell-practise, though I do hope they aren't practising the cruciatus on each other without supervision. We don't want any permanent damage done to a pure-blood child."

"Indeed not!" Carrows agreed.

"Well, then find them," Severus hissed. "And send Luna straight to me when you do."

He continued to his office where he set the portraits to the same task ... with no result which made the problem interesting indeed. Wherever the children were hiding either didn't have a portrait hung on any of its walls, or the portrait was such a recluse that none of the others even thought of including him or her in their search.

The most likely explanation was that they were outside, but that shouldn't be possible without Mr. Filch knowing and while Amycus Carrow might forget to ask the caretaker, it was hardly imaginable that Alecto Carrow would start a search without consulting him. And no matter how rudely she might address the Squib Filch was much too worried about his position under the new regime to dare withhold information.

Severus started making a list of portrait-less rooms, but was interrupted by one of his portrait spies before he came up with a likely candidate.

"That Luna-girl is coming up to see you. She has the password!"

Good, so Carrow had found her quickly enough after all.

"Let her in and then leave us. This conversation will be private."

The door opened and the inhabitants of the portraits scurried away like rats. Clearly they hadn't liked the temporary de-animation hex he'd cast on those who'd chosen to pretend sleep the last time he'd ordered them to leave.

Luna entered and cast a dreamy look around at all the empty frames.

"Please close the door," Severus said and Luna pulled it shut with her elbow.

The strange diadem she was carrying had to be heavier than it looked.

Severus cast muffliato at the door as an extra precaution before he addressed the girl again.

"Is that the last horcrux then?" he demanded.

"Ravenclaw's diadem," Luna confirmed nodding. "I had to get it for you, because you can't get into that room while there is somebody in the other one and Greg and Neville won't let us leave it all at once."

Severus nodded, though he didn't understand the part about the two rooms at all. He had bigger problems on his hands right now and Ravenclaw's diadem would enable him to deal with one of them.

"Excellent," he declared. "And where is the elder wand?"

"Oh, it's too late for that one now," Luna said matter of factly. "You-Know-Who has it now, but that doesn't matter. It only means that Harry really needs to take your wand."

"So when exactly do I have to give him my wand?" Severus didn't like the thought of that at all. He'd feel quite naked and helpless without his wand.

"Not give," said Luna. "He has to take it or it won't work."

That only made things worse.


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 30: The Sacking of Severus Snape

"Listen Harry," Lily Prewett Evans said. "I know that what Vernon is offering you isn't the job you've been dreaming of, but very few people get their dream job. James Potter is the only one I know who got that lucky and he got it through just the sort of family connections Vernon is so very kindly willing to extend to you."

"But it isn't what I want," Harry reminded her.

"It is the best offer your family can make you. Neither Claudius nor I have any useful connections at all and Auror Potter's are all in the wizarding world. That is too dangerous right now."

"I'm hoping that that might change before I take my NEWTs ... A-levels," Harry admitted.

"Harry," Lily said, then paused for an agonised moment. How could she explain this to him? Why couldn't she just be selfish and take her family away to safety instead?

But there was no taking them to safety. Until You-Know-Who was dead she was cut off from Mafalda and any further magical children born into the family would be dragged off into the wizarding world at the age of eleven ... unless they left the country and started over in a completely unknown place. And how long would the wizarding institutes of the other countries remain safe? How would they even know if they lived as Muggles without contact with the wizarding population?

"Harry, the only way it will ever be safe for any of us to return to the wizarding world is if You-Know-Who is dead," she explained. "And you are the only one that can kill him."

"But I don't want to kill anyone," Harry protested.

"I know, Harry," Lily said trying to hold back her tears. "But you have to and there are people in the wizarding world setting everything up to make it as easy as possible for you. They've promised to tell me at the very best moment when everything is ready so you will be exposed to danger for the shortest time possible. But to do that you have to be available at a moment's notice when the time comes."

Harry brightened.

"But then I can go to Hogwarts institute and become a medical brewer after all!"

"No Harry," Lily said, her heart breaking for his disappointment, though he would have been disappointed anyway even if there never had been any Dark Lord in the first place. "How do you expect to go there and kill You-Know-Who if you are in class or even just in your dorm when the call comes? You have to be somewhere where I can get to you immediately and you can leave whenever you have to. That just won't work if you are in an institute. If you take the job at Grunnings you can leave the institute right away and stay with us until you start working. And once you do I can call Petunia and she can make up some errand she needs you for ... or claim that you have forgotten some doctor's appointment. That will only take a few minutes."

"But ... I've been working so hard to catch up. All those studying programs ..."

"Forget the stupid programs! Think of all the lives you can save Harry," Lily shouted. "Think of your sister. Mafalda is stuck in the wizarding world with You-Know-Who in control, Harry. She's already been crucioed for going to the bathroom. She's still so tiny and in order to get her out of there when she's sixteen, Claudius would have to reveal his address. I couldn't. They're already arresting and torturing Muggleborns and Claudius is a Squib, Harry. What if they start killing Squibs before then?"

She hoped that Harry couldn't hear the tears that were running down her cheeks in her voice. What if the plan failed? What if it was Harry rather than Voldemort that would be killed and both her children would be lost to her forever?

"But ... can't I at least be a gardener?" Harry pleaded.

"Well, once you are at Grunnings you will know when their gardener retires," Lily promised. "Then you can apply for his job. Or maybe they'll reduce production in a few years. Then they'll be glad of anyone who leaves voluntarily and if the wizarding world is free by then you can even return there."

"I'll think about it," Harry promised.

He'd already told some of his classmates about the job offer and they'd all said that it was an excellent opportunity and that Harry ought to take it.

Even Dursley had agreed that Harry was too stupid to pass A-levels anyway and that a productive job offer was an excellent way to withdraw without losing face.

It hurt that Dursley of all people thought him stupid. Sure, Harry was well aware that even at Hogwarts nobody had ever considered him particularly smart, but surely he could outthink Dursley anytime and he hated the thought of giving up on A-levels if Dursley was going to pass them and think that proof that he was smarter than Harry.

"Of course you're smarter than Dursley, Prewett," Napier told him in private that evening. "You just had really bad luck with your first institute and got here too late to catch up. That doesn't change that you can't pass the A-levels, though, but if it's any consolation, neither will Dursley. He'll join you at Grunnings soon enough if he isn't discovered as a boxer and in a few years you can tell everybody that you have been on the staff longer than him because you were smart enough to recognise a good job when it was offered to you and chose it over A-levels you wouldn't need while he insisted on trying for the A-levels and failed."

It didn't sound like a particularly wise thing to tell people, but of course he couldn't tell any of the Muggles about having to save the wizarding world.

Besides, how was he, who'd always been bad at DADA, supposed to kill the greatest dark wizard that ever lived? Sure, he had an Outstanding OWL in the subject, but that had to have been some kind of mistake ... or maybe his ability to cast a corporal patronus. Apparently one was not expected to be able to do that at fifteen.

On the way to dinner that evening he had another vision. You-Know-Who murdered the head of Gringotts because somehow Helga Hufflepuff's cup had been destroyed while safely stored in the Lestrange vault.

Harry couldn't bear that injustice. The poor goblin had not more an idea how anyone could have gotten in there than You-Know-Who himself did!

It was no use. If there was anything Harry could do to stop the monster before he killed even more innocent people he had to do it ... or die trying. It didn't sound like a very productive life, but on the other hand he wouldn't be around long enough to be unhappy.


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 31: The Battle of Hogwarts

Harry went to the headmaster's office instead of class the next morning. It felt awkward to skip class, but it would most likely be his last ever and he couldn't forget the murdered goblin and wizards. The sooner he left the institute, he told himself, the sooner he could kill You-Know-Who and stop the murders.

Once again he had to wait in the secretary's office. The secretary eyed him suspiciously, but didn't say anything and this time the wait luckily wasn't long.

"Well, Prewett," the headmaster greeted him. "What have you destroyed this time?"

"Nothing!" Harry exclaimed feeling a little insulted. "I only did that once!"

"Then what brings you here uncalled for again?"

Harry blushed realising for the first time that it was rather rude of a student to take up the headmasterâ€™s time like this.

"You wanted me to leave the institute so I don't shame it," he explained. "And I have received a job offer that ... well, it isn't exactly what I was looking for, but everybody I've talked to thinks it is a really great one of a kind opportunity and it is very productive, so I've decided to take it."

He'd thought the headmaster would be pleased and tell him to get going as soon as possible.

"And just what is that job and who is making unsolicited job offers to students at my institute?" the man demanded rather sharply instead.

"An assembly line position at Grunnings," Harry explained. "They make drills and they are about to start a new assembly line. I'll be producing the latest model."

The headmaster checked something on his computer.

"Well, Grunnings is a legitimate business it appears. There even are some former students of our institute working there, but I don't see any note that they are hiring."

Harry nodded. "They haven't really started yet. That's why my uncle told me to come now. That way I'll be sure to be the first one to get a job."

"Your uncle?" The headmaster asked still sounding suspicious.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon, Vernon Dursley. He's Dursley's father and he works at Grunnings and he thinks I'll like it there, even though it isn't gardening."

"Yes, so I see," the headmaster agreed. "But why did he tell that to you and not to his own son?"

That brought Harry up short. How could he explain that away?

"Well, he did tell it to both of us," he said after a moment. It wasn't really a lie. Dursley had been there when Uncle Vernon had made the offer. "But Dursley wants to stay and take the A-levels. I did want to wait until after the exams, too, at first, but then I wanted to be a gardener and my mother said one doesn't need A-levels for that either. So I can still become a gardener if it turns out producing drills isn't as satisfactory as Uncle Vernon thinks it will be, but Grunnings won't be hiring anymore by the time I have my A-levels, so I'd miss out on that opportunity."

"And Dursley has ambitions to get a job that requires A-levels?" the headmaster asked. "You know, you must keep this confidential, since it isn't really proper to mention this in front of you, but you can hardly have missed that Dursley isn't really doing much better than you. I fear he might be in for a big disappointment if you can't convince him to come with you."

"I don't think that it really is the A-levels he's waiting for," Harry confided. "It's the boxing championship. He's hoping to be discovered and have a career as a professional boxer, though I really don't understand how that would be productive. It means a lot to him, though, and he'd lose his chance if he left before the inter-institute competitions. There's no way anyone can talk him into leaving before those are over."

"Very well, you can inform your uncle that if he brings me confirmation of the job offer from Grunnings he can take you to your new home after dinner today."

"My parents' home," Harry corrected. "They have invited me to stay with them until I start work."

"Please remember to tell them to bring some clothes for you so you can leave your uniform here. There always ends up being some trouble about returning it when children leave in uniform."

"Yes Sir," Harry promised. "I'll do that."

He had to borrow Dursley's phone to call his mother and tell her and that of course meant that Dursley found out that he was leaving sooner than Harry would have liked. He felt a sting of regret that he hadn't asked for a phone for his birthday after all. He would still have had a use for that now while the studying programs he'd given the wish up for were completely useless.

There was no problem with the clothes at least. His mother still had the ones she'd given him at their very first meeting and it would be no problem for her to enlarge them if Harry had outgrown them in the meantime. She even thought of bringing a bag for Harry to put his belongings in. There were only few of those other than the useless study programs, though.


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 32: The Elder Wand

Severus' mark burned, but it wasn't a call. It gave him no directions or even any hint where the Dark Lord was. Nor was it a steady burning. There merely were sudden bursts of ... well, Severus put it down to rage ... and then it faded back into insignificance.

It might be another emotion the Dark Lord was feeling. The Dark Mark didn't have the same close two way connection that Harry Potter's scar had. It didn't communicate any thoughts the Dark Lord wasn't deliberately sending. This however had to be an unintentional transmission. Most likely it was a strong overwhelming emotion and Severus doubted that the Dark Lord could have discovered love or even just lust at this late stage.

At dinner the Carrows kept shooting him nervous glances. So they were feeling it, too. Well, they'd have to cope whichever way they could. Severus would do nothing about it.

He walked past them as if he hadn't noticed and they said nothing, too afraid of being overheard by other staff members. It seemed like they had managed to hide the problem successfully so far. Neither Professor McGonagall nor Professor Flittwick showed any sign of increased interest in the Carrows' behaviour and Professor Slughorn was completely relaxed. Maybe it would be better to alert them, though? If only Severus knew what the Dark Lord was up to!

A surprise visitor waiting outside the Great Hall as he left it brought some further information.

"Snape!"

Severus stopped at that highly unusual address.

"Scabiour? What brings you here? You haven't suddenly developed a desire to become a teacher, I hope?"

There were no openings that the man was even remotely qualified to fill at the moment, though all things considered he'd gladly accept Scabiour in place of either Carrow if he could. He certainly couldn't be any less qualified than Amycus and would probably have proved a lot better at finding missing students. Severus didn't know how Luna Lovegood had learned that he had wanted to talk to her. He only knew that it couldn't have been via the Carrows after all, as they had not seen her since she had first gone missing.

"Hardly," Scabiour confirmed. "But," his voice sank to just barely audible. "You have a talent for interpreting our lord, don't you?"

"Why don't we go up to my office and discuss this over a cup of tea?" Severus suggested. "This is hardly the best place in the institute to stand around and talk at this time of day. Unless of course you enjoy being bumped into and shouting over children's chatter?"

"Hardly," Scabiour said once again. "And tea would be very welcome right now."

So Severus led him into the headmaster's office and warded the door.

"Severus, the Dark Lord, he ..."

But Severus raised a hand to forestall him, then chased off the portraits.

"Now then," he said once the last frame was empty. "What is it that has upset you so?"

"Our lord, he ... I think he has gone insane, Snape!" Scabiour whispered. "At least I cannot explain his behaviour in any other way."

"Gone insane?" Severus repeated carefully avoiding giving it any sort of emphasis.

As far as he was concerned You-Know-Who had lost all touch with reality long ago ... if he had ever had it. Perhaps the man had always been insane and Severus had only been too young and inexperienced to tell when he'd first joined him.

"He just randomly murdered the head of Gringotts, Snape. They're probably gathering their forces for another goblin rebellion right now, because obviously a war with the goblins is just what we need when we still aren't done tracking down Mudbloods and blood traitors."

"Tracking down," Severus pointed out. "There hardly has been any fighting with them. They are no threat scattered and on the run."

"But next he sent for the Lestranges and tortured poor Rastaban to death. As for Bellatrix, well, she's never been sane since her return from Azkaban so it's hard to tell the difference, but to be honest, Snape, I don't like the thought that I might be next."

"What did he do next?"

"Disapparated without giving a destination, then returned with a cup in his hand screaming that it was empty or something was gone or whatever. 'They' were apparently all gone except the snake because Harry Potter was after them. And then he disapparated again."

"Then he will come here soon to check on the diadem. I suggest you make yourself scarce if you want to make sure you don't end up sharing your poor old friend Rastaban's fate."

"But what will you do?"

"Prepare to receive him as I ought, of course. What else can I do? I am the headmaster. Unlike you I have to be here. You don't."


	33. Chapter 33

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 33: The Prince's Tale

Life in his parents' employee flat felt very strange to Harry.

The flat and its rooms were so very tiny compared to the large institute rooms he was used to! There seemed to be no room to move in.

Of course part of that was due to his presence when the flat had never been intended for more than two people. Luckily it was equipped with a couch to watch holovision on or else Harry would have had to sleep on the floor ... though maybe that would even have been more comfortable. The couch was a bit too narrow and a lot too short being intended for two people sitting next to each other not for lying on.

Not being a company employee or spouse Harry couldn't get food in the company mess like his parents and had to make his own meals out of the supplies he could find in the kitchenette. It also contained a cookbook that reminded Harry weirdly of his Potions textbooks, but it was much easier to just eat something cold.

There were no classes, no teachers, no nurses or house-elves ... but at least his old magical possessions were here. The only important thing that was missing was his wand which he'd really have liked to have so he could practise fighting spells.

Unfortunately his mother didn't know what had become of his wand any more than he did. She, as usual, suspected Auror Potter was at fault, but Harry's father had mildly suggested that since it had been confiscated by Professor Flittwick and the other students that had had to leave their wands behind as well all had Muggle parents that could not be trusted to handle wands it was probably still at the institute where Professor Snape was now headmaster.

Harry felt a surge of anger whenever he thought of that. How dare Professor Snape take his wand from him!

It was a relief when Aunt Petunia called to tell him that Uncle Vernon had arranged his job interview for the next day. The new assembly line wasn't ready to start operation yet, but Uncle Vernon had convinced the head of Grunnings' HR department that it made sense to start training some new employees before they were actually needed so they would not all be entirely new to the job when they started work in earnest.

Harry had to undergo a short questioning session and then was given a tour of the company.

"That over there is where you're actually going to work," his guide said as they passed a long hall. "It's still under construction right now, so it isn't safe for us to go in, but it will look a lot like this one here ..."

He opened another door and led Harry into a huge hall full of machines. The noise inside rendered it impossible to understand what exactly the guide was saying about the individual production steps, but Harry thought it was mostly self-explaining anyway since he could see how the parts coming out of each machine differed from the parts going in.

And then he was introduced to Dave! Dave was the grey-haired foreman of this assembly line and was to oversee Harry's training.

He also knew a lot more about the production steps than the HR man as Harry soon discovered. He got Harry a dark overall and a pair of headphones for both of which Harry was very grateful and then led him into a small room which the HR man had passed by unnoticed.

"This," Dave explained. "Is the most important place in the hall."

Harry looked around incredulously.

Dave grinned and pointed at the coffee machine in the corner.

"It's where you get your coffee and take cigarette breaks."

"I don't smoke," Harry told him.

"You will soon enough," Dave predicted. "You'll see."

And indeed the very next day when he started his training Harry found out that smokers got more breaks during which they escaped the constant noise of the machines which even the headphones couldn't block out completely.

He decided to try it, but it turned out that smoking was in fact more difficult than operating the machine Dave had chosen to introduce him to that day. His first cigarette left him coughing and gasping for breath while his new co-workers laughed. They assured him that he'd get the hang of it soon enough afterwards, though.

The best part about starting training was having his own employee flat, of course. Harry moved in after his first workday, set up his few possessions on the empty shelves in the strangely empty and silent little flat.

He was delighted to have a place he belonged again and his parents, too, were quite relieved, but it turned out to be quite difficult to sleep when one was entirely alone in one's flat at night, and Harry almost wished he had a girlfriend he could propose to.

Well, hopefully some of the other new trainees that were soon to arrive would be girls.


	34. Chapter 34

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 34: The Forest Again

It was, of course, the day after Harry had moved out that Severus' owl arrived to tell Lily that You-Know-Who was marching upon Hogwarts convinced that Harry was there.

At first Lily actually considered ignoring the message. What could be more stupid than asking Harry to face the darkest wizard of all times at the very moment he was prepared for it? What chance could he even have in such a fight?

She threw the letter into the fireplace and went back to the holo-movie she had been watching, but just as she had settled in comfortably again she inevitably wondered what would happen when Harry didn't show up as expected.

You-Know-Who thought that Harry was at Hogwarts institute so he would send his entire army to break into the castle if the teachers didn't let him in voluntarily. Severus would be killed resisting the invasion, she was sure. And then after they'd searched the entire institute scaring and probably manhandling the children and still hadn't found Harry?

Most likely You-Know-Who would have a fit of anger and when You-Know-Who had a fit of anger people around him died and Mafalda, sweet innocent little Mafalda was at Hogwarts even if Harry was not.

Perhaps after he had killed everybody at Hogwarts, and among them Mafalda, You-Know-Who would be content that Harry must be dead as well, or never had been there. Perhaps then she and Harry would be safe as long as they lived out their lives in the Muggle world.

But Mafalda would be dead!

And what if after killing Mafalda You-Know-Who went looking elsewhere and eventually found Harry and killed him as well?

If however he did find and kill Harry at Hogwarts institute he'd probably leave Mafalda alone. She had a Muggleborn and a Squib for parents, but that made her no less of magical blood than any other half-blood witch. Perhaps she'd even count as almost pure since neither of her parents was a Muggle. She would probably be denied contact with her parents unless they chose to return to the wizarding world but she would be alive.

This wasn't a decision which of her children should continue to live, it was a decision whether one of them should live or both die and the prophecy did hold out a faint hope that Harry might win.

Lily picked up her phone and called Harry.

"It's time, dear," she told him.

"But ... my work ..." Harry said.

"Just tell them that you have a doctor's appointment. I called you because I was worried that you'd ignore it in favour of your new job. It's ... about your migraines. You get them from your glasses so it is very urgent that you get them adjusted."

A few memory-altering spells would ensure that the people at Grunnings would remember Harry having been killed in a traffic accident on his way back from the optician's ... but she wouldn't report his death just yet. If he did survive he'd want to return for his possessions and it would make a nicer story if he told them he had a better job offer and was transferring to another company. It would make things much easier for Petunia and Vernon.

She was barely able to talk for tears when Harry arrived at the flat and for several moments they just stood holding on to each other tightly. It was Harry that stepped back first.

"Alright, so ... I floo to Hogwarts institute?" he asked. "And then what do I do? I still don't have a wand."

Lily couldn't speak past the lump in her throat so she merely held out the invisibility cloak to Harry.

"Yes, of course I'll wear that and I have the snitch in my pocket, but what do I do? Where do I go? I don't even have a wand."

"S...Severus," she got out finally. "Go to him. He'll know."

"Severus?" Harry sounded puzzled at first but then his face lit up. "You mean Professor Snape? He has my wand?"

She nodded.

"Oh good. He's such a great fighter. I feel much better to know he'll be with me. Don't worry, Mother, he'll protect me. We'll kill You-Know-Who and then Mafalda and all the other children will be safe forever."

And before Lily knew it he'd disappeared into the floo shouting "Hogwarts Institute!".

So these would most likely be the last words she'd ever hear from her son. So very terrible and brave! It had of course been inevitable that they would be, but she hadnâ€™t realised it until now when it was all over and done with and all she had left were her memories and all the things she remembered too late that she had never said to him, but should have and had wanted to.

Lily dropped back down onto the couch Harry had once slept on and cried the holovision running on unnoticed.

If only Claudius were here to hold her and console her, but he was working right now and didn't even know and she couldn't just contact him and tell him ... Not that she thought she'd be able to force out the words.

Besides she deserved to be suffering alone right now. She had just sent her own son to his death knowing that he didn't even realise just how dangerous the mission was. He'd trusted her to keep him safe and she had sacrificed him to save his sister. Oh, if only it wasn't already too late! If only Mafalda was still alive to be saved by the sacrifice!


	35. Chapter 35

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 35: King's Cross

Harry fell out of the fireplace of the headmaster's office and for a moment felt a wave of joy ... and then disappointment and loneliness when he realised that while the familiar portraits of the former headmasters were still on the walls of the circular room, the rest of the dÃ©cor had been changed almost beyond recognition.

Gone were all the little whirling and spinning magical tools that Professor Dumbledore had apparently collected. In their place were spell books, a worktable with a bubbling cauldron and a few jars of potions ingredients on it.

"Do you have your cloak with you?" Severus Snape demanded harshly instead of a greeting.

"My invisibility cloak? Yes, Sir!"

"And the snitch Professor Dumbledore left you?"

Harry held it up in his fist, though it was much too old to even twitch anymore. "Yes, Sir!"

"And your wand?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Sir. No wand. Professor Flittwick took it before we were taken to Smeltings."

"Smeltings?" Professor Snape asked clearly not recognising the word a all.

"My secondary institute. It ..."

"Never mind," the Professor snapped at him. "We do not have much time. If we do not hand you over to the Dark Lord within the next fifteen minutes the Death Eaters will renew their attack. You will have to fight him with what weapons you have. I have no wand but my own to give you and I need that myself."

"But ..." Harry started.

"Put on the cloak and follow me quickly!" Professor Snape ordered. "I will lead you to him under pretence of parley. No need that he should see you coming. I can at least give you the element of surprise though I cannot give you a wand. Hurry!"

Harry hurried. He really had no other choice if he wanted to keep up with Snape's fast strides as they passed through the debris-strewn halls of Hogwarts.

Between worrying how to keep up with his former teacher and trying to think of a way he might be able to fight an experienced and highly powerful dark wizard without a wand he caught glimpses of places he thought he recognised. Wasn't this the corridor with the statue of the one-eyed witch? Harry couldn't make sure since the very spot where the statue should have stood was nothing but rubble.

A dark, scorched hole in the wall might once have been Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and the great moving staircase hung askew and motionless in the air. For a moment Harry worried that it might not carry their weight, but Professor Snape jumped onto it without hesitation and there was a row of students on it levitating buckets of water upwards. Harry recognised Luna, Ginevra and Ron among them, but they all looked grimy and shocked and there was no time to stop and ask whether they were okay. Most likely they didn't have time either anyway.

In the entrance hall they almost collided with another group of children, this one including Neville whose face was blood-stained and bruised and Draco with tears washing white streaks into his mask of ash. Harry almost didn't recognise his friends.

The body they were levitating on the other hand was only too recognisable. Vincent!

Next in line followed the remains of Colin who had once been so eager to photograph Harry and after him one so tiny it had to be a first year.

Oh no! Where was Mafalda?

He almost stopped to look, but he had no idea where the surviving first and second years might be and Professor Snape had hurried on without a pause.

Harry ran to catch up, through the badly dented and cracked main door, down the blood-stained and charred stairs, across the battlefield into the forest and finally out into a clearing.

Several Death Eaters were waiting there alongside their master.

Just what did Professor Snape expect Harry to do? There was no way that two of them could defeat them all with a single wand!

"Severus!" You-Know-Who hissed. "Where is Harry Potter!"

"Forgive me, my Lord," Professor Snape replied with a deep bow. "He is not to be found anywhere in the castle."

"Then what are you doing here?" Bellatrix Black Lestrange demanded. "You should be searching for him!"

"He is not in the castle," Professor Snape repeated. "I do not have anywhere left to look and our time is running out. I came to humbly beg our lord and master to change his mind about renewing the attack. Harry Potter is not here and several of our fine young pure-blood students have already been killed in the crossfire. Mylord, you can achieve nothing by attacking the institute again. All you can achieve is the destruction of our kind. The children are our future, our ..."

"Silence!" You-Know-Who roared. "Who are you to presume to tell me what I should and shouldn't do?"

"Not tell, Mylord," Professor Snape amended. "Humbly beg. I ..."

Impossibly fast, or so it appeared to Harry, You-Know-Who whipped out his wand.

"Crucio!"

"Noooo!" Harry yelled over Professor Snape's scream of pain and threw himself between the only friend he had in this clearing and the Dark Lord. The cloak slid off him and he stumbled over a root and tumbled to the ground beside the one he'd sought to protect so impulsively.

"Traitor!" You-Know-Who roared. "I will kill you both!"

"Harry! The snake!" Professor Snape seemed to put all his remaining strength into the words while his wand, their only defence, twitched uselessly in his trembling hand. "Kill the snake."

"No!" Harry yelled again and in despair grabbed for the wand and tore it from the man's hand to point it at the Dark Lord.

And unbelievably, completely incongruously Snape smiled through his pain.

"Avada Kedavra!"

And Harry Potter died.

The world disappeared and then Harry was standing in an empty street wearing white transfer clothes instead of his Muggle overall.

"Well done, Harry," the voice of Albus Dumbledore greeted him. "It is almost done."


	36. Chapter 36

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Chapter 36: The Flaw in the Plan

Only moments seemed to have passed between Harry's death and his reawakening in the same clearing he had died in. He was still lying next to Professor Snape clutching the Professor's wand, but with Professor Dumbledore's words still ringing in his ears as well as the voice of You-Know-Who who was demanding to know whether he was dead and ordering somebody to check.

Harry sat up.

"I'm not," he stated. "You can't kill me, but maybe I can kill you and save the wizarding world."

Professor Dumbledore had said that that was more important than Harry's survival after all.

He pointed the unfamiliar wand at the Dark Lord wondering whether it would work for him, wondering whether he could cast an unfamiliar spell that he'd never wanted to learn, wondering ... hand trembling.

"Nonsense!" You-Know-Who yelled and pointed his own wand at Harry.

"The snake, Harry! The snake!" Professor Snape shouted.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Two simultaneous flashes of green light lit up the clearing, something heavy and dark slammed into Harry and buried him under it.

"Nooooooo!" The Dark Lord yelled in fury. "Nagini!"

"Severus!" a woman's voice screamed.

"Shut up you fool!" a man hissed. "The traitor got what he deserved."

"Is he dead?" another voice asked. "Did the spell hit him or Potter?"

"Either way both must die for this," You-Know-Who declared. "Avada Kedavra!"

Still buried under the dark thing that just might be the body of his most formidable teacher Harry couldn't see the green flash. He clutched the wand more tightly. If it had worked on Nagini and that was the only explanation for You-Know-Who shouting her name like that, it would work for him again. The wand worked and the spell worked! Now all he'd have to do would be to cast faster than the most formidable wizard the war had still left alive.

"Levicorpus!"

The weight lifted. It was indeed Professor Snape's body now drifting lifelessly through the air directed by You-Know-Who's wand.

That gave Harry the advantage he needed. No wizard could simultaneously levitate one thing and cast a curse on another.

"Avada Kedavra!" Harry screamed at the top of his lungs throwing all his rage and despair into the spell.

Once again green light blinded him and then Professor Snape's body slammed back down onto him.

Body! Snape's body! Like Victor's body on that stretcher what seemed like a lifetime ago!

Harry screamed and struggled to push it away, to get out, get away from it.

There were other screams ringing in his ears, shouts, but he could not make sense of them. He just wanted to get out from under the body ... the pile of bodies that was growing higher and higher on top of him. Snape's and You-Know-Who's and Dumbledore's and Victor's and Uncle Sirius' and the Minister's and Barty Crouch's ... both the Barty Crouches'.

The bodies were too heavy to lift, but eventually he managed to claw and drag himself out from under the pile and crawl away backwards until he hit a tree and sat leaning against it gasping for air.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there when it finally filtered into his mind that there was no pile of bodies, just one black heap on the ground that had been Professor Snape whose black robes occasionally fluttered in the wind, the huge snake lying as if asleep on the other side of the clearing and between them mindless and dead the monstrous body of You-Know-Who.

Other than that there were only the grass, the trees and the silence. There were no Death Eaters left. Harry was the only living person here. He had to get away from this and ... Do what?

Alert the Aurors! Let them deal with the bodies and the Death Eaters. Harry was just a boy.

Well, no, not a boy. He was an employee, an assembly line trainee. Assembly line workers didn't have to deal with bodies, though. Aurors did.

He got up, started to pocket his wand, remembered that he was wearing Muggle clothes that didn't have a wand-pocket and that it was Snape's wand, not his own. A dead man's wand!

Harry threw it away and left it there on the ground next to its dead master along with the dead snitch and the invisibility cloak that had somehow ended up half buried under Professor Snape's body.

He stumbled back to the castle where he and his news were welcomed with joy and shouting. People hugged him and patted him on the back and celebrated all around him while Harry watched it all numbly.

Draco ran up to him and told him about the battle. Luna said something about Ginevra and her family grieving for Fred. Yet another body. So many bodies.

"The Lupins are dead, too," Neville reported sombrely. "Both of them. And they were only so recently married."

Bodies, nothing but bodies.

"Harry, my boy! I am proud of you!" Auror Potter gabbed him and squeezed him. "You really are a true Potter after all!"

"Let me go! Leave me alone! I want nothing to do with you or your kind!" Harry fought him off and stepped away. "I'm a Prewett. I'm Harry Prewett."

People stared at him.

Then Professor McGonagall came over and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Now Harry, you are over-tired. And no wonder. This has been a terribly exhausting day for us all," she said and led him to Gryffindor tower where he fell into his old bed and slept.

He was woken by his mother in the middle of the night.

"Oh Harry, you really are alive!" she said tearfully and hugged him again and again. "When Severus didn't call I thought ... I thought ... And then we heard the news from Aldous and ... Oh Harry! Harry!"

"He's dead," Harry explained. "He couldn't call you because he's dead."

He didn't know who Aldous was, but right now it was much more important that his mother was here and that she was hugging him and that Mafalda was alive.

All was well, his mother told him. You-Know-Who was gone for good this time and their family had all survived the war unhurt.

The world was once again safe for Muggles, Muggleborns, Squibs, half-bloods and pure-bloods alike.


	37. Chapter 37

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Epilogue: Nineteen Years Later

It was Dudley's first morning at Hogwarts Secondary Institute for Wizards and Witches and he still couldn't quite believe that he no longer had a number. He really was the only Dudley at his institute!

And as if that wasn't already enough to confuse one he and Scorpius had to find their way from Ravenclaw tower to the Great Hall past moving staircases and talking pictures!

"This is much bigger than the primary institute," even Scorpius who was from a magical institute admitted. "But I think that must be it. Look how many students are going that way."

Dudley nodded and followed the others and soon they were in the Great Hall and buttering toast at the Ravenclaw table and exchanging happy greetings with their fellow first years.

Dudley was just about to take his first bite when a boy in a Gryffindor uniform plopped down onto the seat beside him.

"Hey, you're Dudley, right?"

"Yes?" Dudley asked rather confused. What could an older Gryffindor want with him?

"I'm Vernon," the boy introduced himself. "And that there is Claudius."

Dudley glanced at the indicated boy.

"Okay, so?"

"You are about to receive an owl," Vernon explained. "Don't look surprised when you do and don't open the letter at the table ... or anywhere where the Professors can see you. If someone asks you what it is about say you ordered some sweets from Honeydukes. And we can talk some more after you've read the letter."

Then he got up and went to sit at his own table.

"Weird," Dudley commented.

"It's probably some prank," Scorpius warned, but he too was curious when the mail arrived and a rather unremarkable barn owl landed in front of Dudley with a package.

Remembering the Gryffindor's warning Dudley put it in his bag - making sure that it was as far as possible from his books in case it started leaking something vile - and went to his classes as if nothing unusual had happened.

They had quite a time finding their way to their lessons what with the Transfigurations classroom being in the dungeons and Scorpius getting his foot stuck in a trick step on the way up to Potions so they didn't find time to open the package until they returned to the common room after their last class of the day.

Very carefully they undid the wrapping and ...

"It's just a package of sweets!" Dudley exclaimed. "They're not pranksters at all, they sent us a welcoming gift."

"You," Scorpius pointed out. "I didn't get any and I don't think that anybody else in our year got one either."

"There's a letter in here as well," Dudley discovered and pulled it out of the box.

"Well, open it!" Scorpius encouraged him. "What does it say?"

"Dear Dudley Prewett,

Yes, that is indeed your full name even though you must not tell anybody yet. You cannot imagine how hard the last eleven years have been to your mother and myself since the day that we had to hand you, our sweet, tiny baby, over to strangers never to see or hold you again for sixteen long years. A very wise old man once told me that all children long for nothing more than the love of their parents and I can now tell you from personal experience that a good parent longs for nothing more than the love of his children.

Therefore I refuse to leave you in doubt any longer even though it will be five more years before I will finally be able to give you my love in person. Until then know that you have a brother and a cousin in Gryffindor house who will love you almost as much as your mother and I do and will be happy to help you find your way in your new institute. Their names are Vernon Prewett and Claudius Dursley.

Your loving mother is Pattricia Jones Prewett and my name is Harry Prewett. We both work at Grunnings Drills where I am a foreman and your mother is a secretary. They probably sound like disappointingly boring Muggle jobs to you, but they are very productive and allow us to be close to our Dursley relatives and family always has to come before magic.

Please address your return owl to me at Grunnings Drills and tell him to deliver it after nine pm when I am sure to be at our flat where no uninitiated Muggles will be frightened by the sight of an owl carrying mail.

Love from  
Dad, Mum and Aunt Mafalda

PS: I will explain more about Aunt Mafalda and the rest of the family in my next owl. There are just too many relatives to introduce all at once."

"Oh wow!"Scorpius said.

Dudley blinked at him stupidly for a few heartbeats.

"Wow," he echoed then. "My parents are anti-feminists!"

They didn't seem to be the bomb-throwing and child-stealing kind, though, and Dudley felt much too excited and curious to report them.

And just what was this warm feeling in his chest that was almost making him cry?


End file.
